The Last of Us
by WriKai
Summary: Almost everyone is dead. There's just me, Sam, and Dean now. Well, them and Jack. We're all that's left now. What... What am I supposed to do? What in the hell am I supposed to do now? Everything is just... Just gone. How do I come back from this? Follows my SPN Fanfic series w/ OC Kylie/Cas, starting in S13. If you want to start at the beginning it's "Believing in the Impossible"
1. I Should've Married Him

I woke up to my shoulders being shaken. I felt sore and a cold and a little damp, as though I had slept on dirt and grass. Then my brain woke up. I had slept on dirt and grass and… something stiffer and colder. Why in the hell had I done that? What had happened last night? I had the foggiest recollections of bad, bad things happening, but… They couldn't have happened. Things like that only happened in my worst nightmares.

I opened my eyes slowly, uncertain as to why I was on the ground. "Kylie," it was Dean's voice. "Kylie, you need to turn over and get up."

"Dean?" I asked, looking over at the Hunter. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light. He looked… worried. Somber. More uncertain and even a little afraid. Why was he afraid? "I… I had the… the worst dream." I stopped for a second. "Where's Cas? I… I need to talk with him."

"Kylie…" He looked past me, and when I turned back to see what was next to me…

It was him.

It was Cas. On the ground. With angel wings burnt in to the Earth around him.

"No." I whispered, looking down at his… his… his body. "No. No no no no no. That… That can't be him."

"I'm sorry, Kylie." Dean's voice was soft, but I kept shaking my head.

"No! It can't be him. It can't be. That's not Cas, it can't be him!" I sat up to grip Castiel's shoulders, to look down at his face.

That was when I realized I could move. I shouldn't be moving. I shouldn't be able to move, not like this. I was… I was dying last night. I should've died last night.

I looked down at myself, and saw that… I was fine. No injuries. No pains or cuts or bullet wounds or breaks or scratches anywhere on my body. I looked from Castiel to Dean, confused. "I…" I took a shaky breath. "Dean, I…"

"I know." He said. That was all he needed to say. No questions as to why I was suddenly fine. No accusations or questions on my magic. No questions at all. Just… Just understanding.

He helped me up slowly, and once I stood he caught me tight in a hug. That was when I started to cry, the tears flowing as freely as a river from my eyes. Dean held me there for a long time, neither of us wanting or able to let go.

Finally, though, I stopped bawling long enough to pull away. "Where," I sniffled a little. "Where's Sam?"

"He's cleaning up the house." Dean answered. "Kelly is… She's gone too."

"Everybody's gone." I muttered, looking back at… At Castiel.

"Not everybody." Dean assured me. "I'm still here. Sam is still here. You're still here."

"What about Jack?" I asked. From the expression on Dean's face, I could tell he didn't have an answer.

"He's MIA." Dean finally said. "We don't know where he is. Once we're done inside we're going to go look for him. Do you want to come with us?" I nodded automatically at that.

"Yeah, yeah, of course." I muttered. "I'll help with the clean up, get my spell things fixed and put away." I looked back over at Cas. "Can I… Can I have a second please?" I asked. I knew Dean would need a minute too, I was fully aware of that, but… I just wanted to do one kind thing.

I just wanted to close his eyes.

Dean allowed me that, and I kneeled beside Cas, swallowing back every tear I had in me. I gently placed my fingers over his eyelids, and moved them so that they would be shut. "You promised you would be fine, Cas." I whispered. "You were supposed to be fine. You… You're supposed to be here, not me."

"Kylie," Dean's voice was quiet, but firm. "Don't say that."

"It's true."

"No, it's not." He argued. "And I don't care how true you think it is, because it's not. You were both supposed to be here. And now… Now I don't think we'd make it if you were gone too." His voice broke just the barest amount as he spoke, just enough for me to hear before he swept it under the rug. He coughed once, twice, working to clear his throat. "Come on, we need to get inside and finish up."

I leaned over to kiss his cheek one more time, taking a breath after I did. "I love you." I whispered, picking up the blade beside him. This one was… mine, and had been the one that Crowley had used.

The one that Crowley and Lucifer had both used.

Dean and I went inside the house, and started cleaning everything up. I don't think either of us knew what else to do. His mom was gone, stuck in a parallel universe with Lucifer. Crowley was dead. Castiel was dead. Everyone was… dead. All we could do for now was just… wipe off the wardings that could be wiped off, clean up the blood and horror, and pack up what was ours. Sam joined us maybe a minute or two later, gripping me in the same kind of hug as Dean had when he saw me.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, unable to bite back another round of tears.

"It's not your fault." Sam assured me. "It's OK."

When we were finished, we all piled in the Impala. We had to go try and find Jack after all. Dean wasn't the biggest supporter of this idea, but it was better to try than to not.

"Kylie, can you…" Sam looked for a moment to find the best phrasing of his question. "Can you do anything to look for him?"

"You mean can I do the magic stuff?" I asked. After a second's hesitation, he nodded. I raised a hand up, trying to feel for, well… anything. I'd been so in tune with the way magic flowed in the world, it's sources and fluctuations and movements, but now…

It was nothing. I couldn't feel anything.

I shook my head, looking at him with sorrow. "I can't." I said. "There's something wrong with my powers. I don't even know what I can and can't do anymore."

"Well, we'll figure it out later." Dean promised. "Besides, we'll take you either way, magical or not."

"Thanks." I slumped in the back seat as Dean put the car in gear, feeling utterly defeated. I had stopped crying at this point. It was useless. Utterly useless. It wouldn't bring Crowley back. It wouldn't help me open that rift back up for the time I would need to yank their mother back through and replace her spot in the parallel universe with me. It wouldn't bring Kelly back. It wouldn't make my magic work again.

Crying wouldn't bring Castiel back.

It wouldn't do anything.

So I stopped, laying in the backseat of Dean's Impala, feeling hollowed out and empty inside. I reached for the ring with my other hand, twisting it gently around my finger. All I could think of was just… Was everything that should've happened in my life; everything I should've told Castiel.

Dean stopped at some sort of food shack, and Sam got out. "You two stay here." Sam ordered. "I'll ask around and try to snag some food." Dean and I nodded, but I couldn't quite meet Sam's eyes. I saw his face, out of the corner of my eye, and his concerned expression that he shared with Dean, but he still went inside. Once he entered the building, Dean spoke up.

"How're you holding up?" He asked. I didn't answer for a minute, just thinking. Finally, though, I told him what I was thinking.

"I should've married him." The words were hollow as I spoke, but they were true. "I should've married him."

"A lot of things should've happened." Dean replied. "There's no point in thinking on them now."

"I should've told Crowley I forgave him, too." I added. "I think he knew, but I should've told him anyways, just to make sure."

"Kylie," Dean's voice didn't sound firm for once, like it always did. This time it sounded… Like he was giving up. Like he knew what he was about to say wouldn't change things, but he was going to say it anyways because it needed to be said at least once. "Don't do this to yourself. There's no point in getting caught up with should-have scenarios."

"I don't know what else to do, then." I admitted. "All I can think is right now is that I should've married Cas, I should've said that I forgave Crowley, I should've been there for Rowena, I should've done a lot of things that I never did and I won't be able to do now." I shook my head. "I should've intervened before Billie died. I should've never worked with the Men of Letters. I should've never left, or at the very least had the decency to actually die in the damn Arctic." I huffed out a bit of air. There were so many things I should've done.

I should've married Castiel when Chuck offered it. We could've done it in the Bunker, in front of the people that mattered to us. Hell, I had enough juice. If I wanted to I could've teleported us all to a damn beach. We could've looked at a beautiful sunset before we saved the world, and walked out of it married.

I should've told Crowley I forgave him. He taught me everything, practically saved my life after Billie pulled me out of freezing to death. He kept my secrets, kept me safe, dear GOD Crowley continuously saved my ass. He kept me out of Lucifer's grasp when he could. He came with the cavalry when Lucifer had that damn witchcatcher around my neck. He supported my decision to join the Men of Letters.

I should've told Mary thank you. Thank you for also being supportive. Thank you for being so kind. Thank you for accepting me as a part of your family. Thank you for so much.

I should've told a lot of people a lot of things.

"Dean," I said, my voice quiet. "Thank you."

"For what, kid?"

"For everything." I said. "If you hadn't picked up the phone those years ago… I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be the person I am today." I held up a hand, and tried to get a small fire or something going within the palm. Nothing happened, though. Absolutely nothing. "I couldn't do any of this. I wouldn't have met…" I couldn't do it. I couldn't even say his name. He had just died in front of me. I couldn't do it. I could say Crowley's name, but I hadn't been in love with him. He had almost become more like an uncle figure in my head. And I'd said his name earlier, but now as I spoke… The syllables and letters stopped themselves in my throat and refused to move. "Everyone." I finally chose a word. "Thank you for listening to your voicemails. Thank you for calling me."

"You're not dying in the backseat of my car." Dean stated, the firmness in his voice back. "So if that's what this is then you better stop talking right now. I've seen enough people die today, I'm not willing to let one more go in Baby." He rubbed his steering wheel for a moment. "She's special. People don't die in this car. People live in this car and make it out and survive."

"I'm not dying." I promised, but that was a bit of a half-lie. I was living, technically. Beating heart. Breath in my lungs. Blood through my veins. But inside… My heart was broken and still, each breath another reminder that I was still living while so many other good people weren't around us, my blood turned to ice at seeing Castiel… and still not thawed, because of how much blood was spilled today.

I was living, but I wasn't alive. Not really.

"Good." Dean said. "Now we're gonna find Jack, we're gonna get everything sorted and get back to the Bunker, we're gonna figure out what's going on with your mojo," he paused, thinking. "And we'll go from there."

"Dean, I don't… I can't feel my power." I said. "I can't heal, I can't sense, I can't even light a flame in the palm of my hand."

"Then we'll deal with it." He said. "Your notebooks are still back at the Bunker, same with tons of freaking books, you can take a look through them and see if they help."

"What if I can't do it anymore?" I asked. "What if… What if it's gone?"

"We'll figure that out too." He promised, turning in his seat to look at me and offer an attempt at a confident smile. "You didn't start out as a witch, and if you can't get back to it then you're just stuck with being a normal human like the rest of us. We'll get it all figured out in time, don't worry. OK?"

No.

No I wasn't OK with this. I wasn't OK with any of this. There were so many loose ends, so many things to be figured out and dealt with. Crowley deserved a funeral. So did Rowena. And Mary. And Kelly. And T.J. and Karma and Mick and Mrs. Tran and Billie and Louis and… and… and…

Cas.

Cas was going to get a funeral. I had to go to a funeral for Castiel. After we found Jack…

I could feel myself falling in to a deep, dark hole. There was a storm cloud in my head that started raining; raining and swirling around and just… Matching my mood. I was falling in to my own storm of fear and sorrow and loathing that I was still here, and everyone else was gone.

Everyone was gone.

The only people I had left in the world were Sam and Dean. I had just… I had just lost everyone all over again. I needed something to hold on to, needed any sort of hope or light or answer or lifeline to stop me from chasing down a bottle. Eventually, I knew that Dean would as well.

"OK." I agreed. "OK. Your plan."

"Our plan." He corrected. "You're a part of the getting everything figured out plan too. Our plan. We're doing this together."

"OK." I agreed again. "Our plan. Find Jack. See what's up. Go from there."

"Go from there." Dean agreed.

"You won't go chasing whiskey bottles, right?" I asked.

"No, of course not." He was lying. I knew he was lying. He knew he was lying. He was just saying it to make me feel better.

"Because I can't do this alone. I can't do the world alone again." My voice didn't stop sounding hollow as I admitted this. "I just… I need a person, Dean. I… I can't." I took a deep breath, keeping my voice steady. "I can't."

"OK." Dean said. His voice was much more serious this time. "OK."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He said. "No alcoholism for me. No hopelessness for you."

"Deal." I agreed. "Our plan. Get stuff figured out. Stay sober. Go from there."

"Go from there." Dean repeated.

"Dean?"

"Yeah kiddo?"

"What do we do to go from there?" He sat back down facing forwards, thinking on an answer. "Because I don't quite know what I can do."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." He decided. "Just take it one day at a time, Kylie. Don't try to look too far ahead right now. Just one day at a time, and we can do this."

"OK." I opened my hand again, trying to bring back something, anything. Fire was the first thing I started with and… I could do this. I'd done it before, I could do it again. "One day at a time."

"Here, I'll be right back." Dean said, leaving the car idling as he opened the door. I watched him reach forwards for a minute, and insert a tape in the player. "Take a second to relax. Stay in the car and wait for Sam." There were a few clicks as the tape did, well, whatever cassette tapes do in a cassette player as Dean exited the car and shut the door. When the first notes hit, I froze for maybe a moment before I laid my head back. I smiled through the tears as a memory arose. We were in the truck, Castiel's truck. He was playing a track from the playlist Dean had given him, a good one. Castiel hadn't understood why I laughed at this song when he played it, not at first, but it only made him play it more because he knew I liked it.

 ** _"There's a lady who's sure,"_**

 _"What do you want to do, then?" Castiel, back in the beginning. I had questions. He was helpful, making sure I didn't feel left out alone or in the dark. He did a lot to make sure I was alright._

 _"Can I ask some questions?"_

 _"Sure." He helped me sit back down, and offered me his seat so that my back was to that God-awful projector. I didn't know how to deal with what I'd seen from it, so I couldn't look at it. Death was a big deal to me then._

 ** _"All that glitters is gold,"_**

 _That smile._

 _The one that would, under normal circumstances, not even make me question whether he was human or not. The first thing I had ever seen about him that was human, without the sarcasm and petulant anger underneath it from April. It glittered and shone in the sunlight like his eyes did, as though every part of him had been hand-crafted by God._

 _Then again, he had been, hadn't he?_

 ** _"And she's buying a stairway to heaven."_**

 _The end of our first date. Castiel had brought some of my favorite movies he'd bought, and popcorn, and had a liter of my favorite soda that we shared. We'd cuddled and watched movies all night and just fell asleep together. It was my Heaven, my happiness, right there with him doing little things._

 ** _"When she gets there, she knows,"_**

 _"Don't, Cas, just… Just don't. Please, just don't." I begged, barely keeping my voice together. I was so scared then. I didn't realize how lucky I would be to get more time with him. I thought time together had been much shorter back then, without his grace. "I… I can't imagine a world without you, so don't even try to make me ok with one, alright? I will not lose you. I absolutely will not lose you." I thought that I knew, then. I thought that I knew I could do anything, that I could save him and keep saving him and that when it came down to it I would still be able to save him, and he could never die. He was an angel. He was the one angel that wasn't going to die, because I wouldn't let him._

 _It didn't matter what I said, though. It didn't matter what I told him, didn't matter what I thought, didn't matter what I believed or did or anything. All things are lost in the end, I just hadn't come to know that fact just yet._

 ** _"If the stores are all closed,"_**

 _The ride to the library hadn't been perfect, but it hadn't been awful either. I was with Cas, I couldn't ask for much better than Metatron getting the hell out of our lives. I was just happy to be with him, just happy that he was about to get his grace back. The library itself was closed and run-down, but Castiel's grace was there. It hurt like hell to feel him get it, and used to only be topped by one thing – the pain of a witchbag._

 _But it gave me the only thing I had had left of Castiel, his grace. And now that was gone too._

 _Now it was topped by two things._

 ** _"With a word she can get what she came for."_**

 _"Angels do not normally fall in love. It is very rare, and very often looked down upon. For so long I sought to maintain my place among my brethren, to remain accepted as one of them, but being among humanity and within your company has taught me that there is much more to being alive than just that. I have been alive for a very, very long time, and I have watched humans experience this kind of happiness and life, but never imagined it for myself. Now that I get to experience it and truly live within it, I cannot say that if presented with the choice, I would return to heaven. If I was given the option to go back, as though I had never left, and as though nothing had changed, I would not make that choice. I would choose this dinner that is probably getting cold right now, or anything in the world other than heaven, as long as it was with you. So, what I am saying is that I am grateful to live a life with you, and that I would like to continue this life, however you wish to continue it, with you." He took a deep breath. "What I am saying is..." That was when he stood up in our little apartment – the one I hadn't been back to in so long, the one we'd talked about getting again – and moved back our little table that we'd picked out together off the corner of the street. He didn't let me help him move it. He wanted me to stay seated so he could do this properly, on one knee, with everything._

 _"Kylie Dianne Dillinger," he said, drawing my attention back to him. "Will you marry me?"_

 _"Yes." I cried. I couldn't help it. I was crying and nodding and flinging my arms around him and still crying and nodding but I said yes. I was going to marry him. This was the man I wanted to marry._

 _I should've married him._

 ** _I should have married him._**

I felt one more tear fight its way down my face. I understood why it was so important for Castiel to tell me all these things when he came back, all these things he hadn't said before but couldn't wait to once he had the chance.

I wished I could've gone back and changed it, gone back and said yes and married him and been happy with him.

But Castiel was dead, and I couldn't do that.

I would have to live with that regret for the rest of my life.


	2. Hello, Jack

Dean came back after not too long, but stopped to chat with a woman that was outside the car. I watched her warily, but couldn't see anything wrong with her. She just looked like a chick that was bored and probably looking for some sort of cheap distraction.

Eventually she left him alone, and Dean hopped back in the car. "You OK?" I asked him, noticing the blood on his knuckles.

"Yeah." He muttered. "Fine."

"Can I… Can I try fixing that?" I asked. "I can't promise that it'll work, but…" I shrugged. "I need to try, right?" Dean just sighed and held his hand towards me. I took it in both of mine, focusing on the injury. I could imagine his hand, as it was before it was hurt. I focused on that thought, pushing it towards the hand I held itself. There was a word I could use, one that I just barely remembered. But it was there, I could feel it. "Heal." I whispered. "Heal."

"Kylie, it's not working." Dean admitted. I shook my head.

"Gimme one more chance." I said. "I… I think I feel something. Sa… Sa…" I gritted my teeth, but I couldn't quite grasp it. I couldn't even feel exactly what it was I was doing, per say. I was just… Just trying. I let go after that. "Sorry. I thought I had it."

"No worries." Dean said. "You're trying, you're sticking to the plan, and that's good. We'll figure it out when we get back to the Bunker."

"OK." I agreed. Sam walked out of the restaurant a few minutes later, and walked towards us briskly.

"What's up?" I asked, Sam hopping in the shotgun seat.

"Jack is at the local sheriff's department." Sam explained. He looked over at his brother, noticing the knuckles. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing." Dean said, his tone leaving no room for further questions. "You said the kid was at the sheriff's place? Good. Great. Let's go."

The drive to the place was short and simple. We walked in without any difficulties, and… It was quiet. Really quiet.

"Hello?" Dean shouted. Nobody replied. We all shared a look, examining our surroundings. Nothing was necessarily wrong or out of place, but at the same time… We had all been in our fair share of police departments. This may be a small town, but usually someone answered when you walked in.

I flicked my wrists, letting my angel blades fall neatly in to my hands. Dean started to pull out a pistol, but Sam shook his head. "Remember what happened last time?" He asked. Dean grimaced, and put the gun away.

"What happened last time?" I asked.

"Nothing good." Dean answered, looking at my blades. "Stow those. This isn't someone you want to spook." I did as he asked, making sure they'd be ready to use again at a second's notice, and we got to work checking out the place. Dean and I moved right, and Sam took the left route that looked like it went straight to the very back. I could feel my head start to hurt, but I moved past it. It could easily be a drawback from the grace being gone and being so active now.

Dean and I made our way to a room with a bunch of desks and computers, and saw it was empty. "Does this feel right to you?" I asked. Dean shook his head. A second later, the sound of footsteps drawing close, and quickly, brought us both to alertness. I felt my headache get worse, but… It was bearable.

Then a teenager came in. He had a brown jacket, a light green shirt, and a pair of jeans. He was stumbling in his footsteps, clutching his head like he was in immense amounts of pain. He reached to grip the desk, using it to try and stabilize himself for a moment before he fell to his knees. I moved immediately to try and help him, but Dean held me back.

"Jack?" Dean asked. I stared from Dean to the teen in surprise. Jack had… He had just been born. This guy shouldn't even be vertical, much less looking… What, 18? 20? Like a young adult. "Hey," whatever he was about to say next stopped in his throat.

Jack looked up at the both of us, his eyes flickering to me for a moment before they settled on the elder hunter, glowing a pure gold that I was certain hadn't been there before.

"Jack?" I asked. The more his eyes burned gold, the worse my headache got. I grabbed my head tightly, reflex taking over as I fell to my knees. "Jack, stop!" I begged. He stood, not even seeming to notice me.

Then there was a buzzing noise, followed by a thunk to the ground. The second I heard the sound, the second my headache stopped. I looked over to see the… The Nephilim, on the ground, with two thin strands leading from his back to Sam.

Taser.

Damn.

"Nice shot." Dean commented, kneeling to help me up. I moved my hands from my head, shaking it once or twice for good measure. "Are you OK?" He asked.

"I think." I furrowed my brows, looking from my hands to the teen. "You… Your head didn't hurt, did it?"

"No." Dean replied, looking over at Sam. He shook his head as well.

"OK." I muttered, looking back at Jack. "Let's put that in the box of weird to come back to later. We've got bigger things to take care of." We started to move towards him, when we heard a new noise.

A pistol being cocked.

I looked up to see who I assumed was the sheriff, pointing her pistol at us with the steadiest hands I could imagine. "Don't…" She stopped, realizing there were more people in the room than she had probably expected. She looked at all three of us before turning her gaze to Jack, confusion prominent on her face. "What the hell is going on here?!" She demanded. I pursed my lips, looking from Sam to Dean. Neither of them looked quite certain on how to answer, either. Sam tried to speak, but the woman shook her head. "No. No, you know what? I've had enough weird for today, I'm going to get some answers. Grab him." She motioned to Jack. "And follow me."

I looked over at the brothers again. I could probably have my blades in hand before she shot, but moving… I couldn't teleport. I couldn't heal if anyone got hit. I was stuck with them.

Sam offered me a slight nod, and got to work with lifting Jack. Dean did the same, and I brought up the rear behind them. The woman lead us to a small cell, keeping her gun pointed at us. Once we reached the cell she forced us to disarm, and I had no choice but to hand her my prized blades. Dean handed her… We're just going to say a lot, whereas Sam had absolutely nothing to give.

Once we were done, she had a new set of instructions. "You, you, and him," she pointed at me, Sam, and Jack. "In the cell. Now." I traded off with Dean, grabbing Jack and moving him in to the cell. As we set him down on one of the beds the woman locked the cell shut behind us, and took a hard look at us all. "No funny business or your buddy here is going to have a hard time." She turned to Dean, motioning for him to head back the way we came. "You first. I have questions." She walked down the hall and took a left with Dean, disappeared from our view. I glanced over at where they'd come, and figured we were out of earshot.

"Got anything on you?" I asked. He knew what I meant. Weapons, defense, etc. Sam shook his head, and I looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean, no?"

"I wanted to come in here peacefully." Sam pointed out. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I still had my blades, but if I wasn't smart about using them then we'd all probably end up screwed.

"OK. OK. Fine." I took a breath. "Bobby pin? Paperclip? Small wire? Anything?" Another shake of his head, and I mirrored it with my own. "Really? Nothing?"

"Do you have any of those?" He asked. I glared at him, ignoring the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Not the point." I muttered, rooting around my pockets. I had… A few crumpled dollar bills, a power bar wrapper, and… The rock; the rock that felt icy to touch, and that would remain cold for, well, ever.

Sam took a seat on the other bed, watching the change in expressions on my face. "You alright?" He asked. I nodded once, taking a seat against the door as I pulled the rock out.

"I… I enchanted this." I said. "One for me, one for Cas. They were tied to our life forces, in a way. If either of us died," I stared at it, remembering the choice we'd made. "With both of us having a reputation for fake deaths and revivals, we figured that while we were apart, this would be the smartest decision. While we're alive, they're warm. If one of us dies," I felt a tear fall down my face, just one, but my voice remained unchanged. "Then it becomes as cold as ice." I gripped it tightly in my palm, bringing it to my face. I breathed warm air on to it, just to see if it would heat up again.

Nothing changed. The warm air became cold once it touched the rock, and the object itself stayed as cold as death. I shoved it back in my pocket, looking up at Sam. "Cas has… had… One like it, tied to my life force. It's probably still in his pocket." I laughed a little at that. "I did it because I was more afraid of him thinking I was dead. I never imagined that Cas would…" I didn't finish my sentence. I didn't have to.

"Kylie," Sam started, his voice quiet. "How come you didn't tell us?"

"About what?"

"About the spell." He said. "About what it would… What it needed." I shrugged, looking up at him.

"Would you have still let me do it, if you knew?" I asked in response. "Because I know Cas wouldn't have, and we both know Dean wouldn't have let me either." Sam didn't reply. He didn't have to. We both knew that if any of them had known, that none of them would've let me do it. I took a glance over at the kid, who was still out cold. "Why is he so…" I looked for the right word. "Old? Big? Why is he as old as I was when I met you guys?"

"I don't know." Sam answered. "I guess we'd have to ask him."

"Do you think he's safe?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Do you think he can open the Rift again?" I kept watching him as I said that. He didn't look like a powerful Nephilim, not like this. He looked like a kid, a normal kid that was a little scared and more than just a little in over his head. He looked like the kind of kid that… that we tried to save from shit like this. "He was the one that opened it in the first place. Crowley…" I could still see his death, in the back of my mind. "He and I closed it, yeah. But if it was opened once, it can happen again." I pursed my lips, looking away from him. "You could get your mom back."

"I don't know." Sam answered, and I could see him watching Jack as well. "There are a lot of questions here that I just don't know the answers to."

"OK." I said. He had a fair point. There were thousands of questions surrounding Jack, and right now we had no answers. We couldn't get answers until he was awake and we were out of this cell.

We sat in silence, both of us mulling over the situation before us. I twisted the ring around my finger, thinking over what Castiel had said. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill Kelly or the kid. He had faith in them. He had faith in me.

 _"It wouldn't be you, because I would keep you safe above all else. I want to make sure you understand that." He held my gaze firmly that night, the night we had argued about Kelly and her kid. "I love you. And… I wish that was an option for us. I wish I could be human for you, and live a normal human life with you."_

 _"You and him will watch over Jack, right?" Kelly's voice, insistent and worried until I told her yes. I looked her in the eyes and promised her that I would watch over her son._

 _"We'll finally have that life we dreamed of so long ago, with a few changes that I believe make it better." Castiel's promise, the promise of a future that I had imagined but never spoken of aloud, not really. The promise of us, with a family and a life._

 _"It's OK. I know you're scared, but it's OK. We can do this. I have faith in you, and faith in Jack." His assurance, his unwavering belief, that was what gave me the strength and courage to go through with the spell. I may have not believed in myself, but Castiel did, and I believed in him._

There was a grunt, and all of the sudden my head burst in to pain once more. I gritted my teeth, clasping at my skull as I looked up to see Jack. He was standing, looking between me and Sam with an almost animalistic fear, and with it a need to defend or bolt.

His eyes were the same burning gold that they had been before.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Sam said, holding up his hands. I did my best to follow suit, keeping my spot on the floor and my teeth clenched.

"It's OK, Jack." I promised him, breathing heavily through the pain. "Take it easy."

"You're OK," Sam agreed, and I could feel his gaze flicker over to me for a second. "We're not gonna hurt you."

"You already hurt me." Jack stated. I felt my eyes widen, recognizing the voice. It was him. When it was dark and I was… I was begging to die. He said no. He did something.

Did he even remember that? Did he know what he did?

My thoughts were interrupted by the splitting pain in my head. At this point I couldn't help it anymore. I grabbed my head again, the pain getting more and more intense.

"Kylie?!" Sam asked, alarmed. I tucked my head between my knees, fighting back a cry of pain. I could feel Sam's attention turn back to Jack. "Yes, yes, you're right, I did hurt you. I'm sorry. I was just trying to slow you down. But right now, you're hurting my friend, Jack." I looked up at Sam, and saw his worried gaze move from me to Jack again. I took a glance up at Jack, and saw confusion and…

Recognition?

"I… I…" The gold in his eyes receded as he spoke, and with it my headache did as well. I got up slowly, using the bars behind me for stability. "

Thanks." I muttered, dusting myself off.

"Are you OK?" Sam asked, looking from me to Jack. I nodded, and Jack kept the confusion.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I was scared, and when I get scared, things… happen." Jack looked concerned at that, but at the same time assured. "I… I can't stop them."

"It's OK." I said. "I know the feeling." I took a glance at Sam, and knew he was remembering the few times I'd been upset in the Bunker and started floating. "Why were you scared, Jack?"

"Because of the voices." He explained. "They were so… loud. So… angry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine." I promised.

"Do you hear the voices right now?" Sam asked.

"No." Jack answered, standing as well.

"Good." Sam let out a nervous chuckle with that, remaining in his seat. "Good." With Jack standing, I took a moment to appraise him. He was… tall.

For a moment, I couldn't help but be a little spiteful at that. I'm almost 24, goddammit, and this kid that was literally born last fucking night was taller than me. What the fuck was up with all these people being so tall?!

I pushed the thought aside, focusing on Jack. He, in turn, was carefully examining myself and Sam. I could still see that recognition in his eyes when he looked at me, but as to where from… I had no idea. He took a slow seat down back on the bed, and sat cross-legged. I looked over at Sam, making eye contact for a second, before I made choice and sat down next to Jack. He looked over at me, surprised, but made room for me to sit next to him. I nodded once to Sam, hoping he understood that I was OK with this.

"I'm sorry." Jack repeated.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Will you two… tell them that I'm sorry?" Jack asked, looking between me and Sam.

"Yeah, sure." Sam agreed. I nodded.

"Of course we will."

"Jack…" Sam took a second to think. "How are you… Um… How are we…" He motioned between himself and Jack, and I took the initiative.

"How come you don't look like you were born last night?" I asked, my voice slightly blunter.

"And how do you speak English?" Sam added.

"My mother taught me." Jack said, smiling a little.

"So you talked to her?" Sam asked.

"I was her." Jack explained, as though it made perfect sense.

"OK." I nodded. "And your… Your powers…" I thought for the best way to describe it. "How do you use them? Did Kelly teach you or Castiel?"

"No, I," Jack stood up again, seeming concerned. He traced the mortar in the bricks, thinking. "I don't know why these things happen." He said. "It's like I'm me, but… Not me." I thought for a second on what he said.

"Like it's coming from inside, but you don't know how to make it yours?" I tried. "Like… Like an instinct, not something you control."

He turned around, nodding a little more enthusiastically. "Yes!" He agreed. "Like that," his face fell, then. "How do you know?"

"Call it prior experience." I explained. "It's OK. You'll get a handle on all of this soon."

"How?"

"I hate to interrupt," Sam interjected. "But… before you were born, you opened a door to another world. How… how did you do that?"

"I don't know." Sam glanced over at me with Jack's answer, and I shook my head slightly. I didn't know how he'd done it either. All I knew was that it made me sick when he did.

"Do you think you could do it again?"

"I don't know." He repeated, his voice a little more insistent.

"That's OK," I assured Jack quickly, glancing over at Sam. "Don't worry about it."

"OK." He sounded more reassured at that. I offered him a small smile, hoping to keep him calm and reassured. I wanted to ask if he had been the one to heal me, or if he even remembered it, but now wasn't the time. Judging from the expressions of recognition on his face when he saw me, though…

He knew who I was. Somehow, he knew.

"I have to find my father." Jack stated, looking between the two of us. "He'll protect me." I pursed my lips, glancing over at Sam. I was going to let him take that one.

"Jack," Sam took a breath. "You gotta listen to me. That's not really what Lucifer does."

"Lucifer?" Jack asked. He shook his head, smiling a little. "No, that's not his name." He stopped tracing the bricks, looking over at me, then Sam. "My father is Castiel."

"What?" I asked, feeling… I don't even know how to describe it. It was like… Like a stone had lodged itself in my throat and my chest and anywhere else it could.

"My mother, she said Castiel… He would keep me safe." Jack sounded so certain of what he was saying, I didn't dare correct him. "She said the world was a dangerous place, that's… that's why I couldn't be a baby or a child." He took a seat back down on the cot. "I… That's why I had to grow up fast. That's why I chose him to be my father." I looked down at the ring on my finger, fighting back tears in my eyes. I didn't know why, exactly, I was about to cry, but I was. I took a few quiet, ragged breaths, wiping my face quickly. I needed to be stronger than that. I needed to be more OK.

His next question, though, broke down everything.

"Where is he?"

I felt a hitch in my breath as Jack asked that, still able to see… See him. See Cas, dead on the ground. See the angel blade through his chest. See his wings burned on the ground. Burning…

We were going to have to burn Cas. We were going to have to give him a Hunter's funeral. I had to… I had to be there for that. I had to see that. I…

I moved away from the kid, resuming my place on the ground against the bars. I could feel both of their gazes on me, but I wasn't speaking. Not yet.

Sam tried to answer, keeping his voice calm. "He…" Sam couldn't quite get the words out, though. I gritted my teeth, and did what I could to force them out myself.

"He's dead." I stated, not looking up at either of them. My voice was different when I spoke, I knew it was, but someone had to say it; eventually I had to be able to say it out loud, no matter how much it hurt.

I wiped my eyes more, pushing away the tears as much as I could. "He… ah… Yeah. He died."

"Oh." Jack sounded like he had more he wanted to say, but he wasn't certain whether he should say it. "Was he… Was he the one that was… that you were…" I nodded, not even looking up at him.

"Yeah." I replied. "He was."


	3. I'm Not Okay

We didn't really chat much more after that. I wasn't in a mood to speak, Sam wasn't really certain what to say, and Jack… I think Jack knew something was wrong, but he didn't know what to do about it so he was following what me and Sam were doing, and staying silent. Once the tears stopped again I wiped them away, but I didn't move from my spot. Instead I tried to light a flame again, and again, and again, but it just… It wouldn't work. I'd have to wait until we were back at the Bunker to do more extensive testing. I doubted they'd drive me out to Utah, and in all honesty I didn't really remember the driving directions to the cabin. I'd just kind of gotten used to… Showing up there.

All my notebooks were there. So were my ingredients, my clothes, my…

That was actually all there was. I guess it doesn't take much to make a place home for yourself. Clothes. Notes and notebooks. Ingredients.

Memories.

Learning. Practicing. Creating. Living. I actually came to love what I did, and enjoyed being at that cabin. It was full of what I would even consider to be happy memories. The first time I successfully lit a candle on fire. Playing with Karma. Chess games with Crowley. Every spell I created and the process of doing it. These were all… These were good memories.

There were bad memories too, sure, but the good ones… The good ones outnumbered the bad. No matter how I thought about the place, I still couldn't help but love it.

I would go back eventually, to get what was mine. But right now… Right now I couldn't, both literally and metaphorically.

Eventually Dean came to the bars, his voice causing me to look up. "Hey, we're good to go." I moved out of the way so Sam could speak to his brother.

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I gave her the talk. She's gonna need a minute, but she's cool." Dean took a moment to look in at all of us, and I saw a slight change in his facial expression when he looked at my face. "You guys alright?" He asked.

"Peachy." I muttered.

"I'm OK." Jack agreed. Dean's face blanched a little at that, and he turned to speak much quieter to Sam. "Does…" Jack looked over at me to ask a question. "Does Dean not like me?" I was spared from answering by a cry for help, coming from where Dean had just been. I looked over at the brothers, and could see the alarm on their faces as well.

"Be right back." Dean promised, turning to leave. I stalked towards the door, calling after him.

"What about letting us out?!" I asked. The elder Hunter ignored me, though, turning around a corner to deal with whatever was happening. I looked over at Sam, and folded my arms in front of me. "Really? No lockpicks on you? No nothing?"

"Shut up." Sam muttered, looking back over at Jack. He was still sitting on the cot, looking concerned. "Look," he grabbed my shoulder, shielding me from the Nephilim so that we wouldn't be overheard. "Whatever happens next, we're not killing this kid, alright?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, no problem." I nodded with the words, and he relaxed just a little.

"Good." He motioned for me to move over to Jack, and I complied. We didn't know what was going on, and somebody needed to protect the Nephilim. I looked over at him, watching his facial expressions.

"What do you feel?" I asked quietly. In front of us, Sam shouted for his brother. I ignored that, and kept watch over Jack. "What's out there, Jack?"

"I don't know." He said.

"Can you get us out of here?"

"I don't know how."

"Can you try?"

"The door is locked." He motioned to the cell door as he spoke.

"Fair enough." I muttered. He had no idea what to do, that was obvious. I flicked my wrists on reflex, and remembered that my angel blades were in the hands of the sheriff. "Shit." I muttered. They were my only weapons. I had no power to rely on, no weapons, no anything.

I didn't think that I'd felt this defenseless in a long, long-ass time.

We could hear footsteps coming from down the hall, slow and relaxed. I had no idea whose they were, much less any way of knowing how to tell. I knew Sam didn't either, and I doubted either of us liked this situation. These bars wouldn't protect us from much, and if they had the keys or a gun then we were just fish in a barrel at that point.

"Jack, whatever happens, stay behind me." I kept my voice hushed as I gave directions to the Nephilim, positioning myself so that I could shield him. Castiel trusted him. Castiel believed in him. Castiel had faith in him. If Cas could do that, so could I.

Then the glass shattered on the door in front of us, with a blinding white light, and I truly believed that we were screwed. "Dean!" I shouted, getting no answer but instead two people walking in, dressed businesslike and neat.

Angels.

The second one flashed his eyes blue, and I could hear Jack's grunt of pain behind me. He fell to the ground, grasping his head, and on reflex I knelt to put a hand on him. Nothing happened, though, and I swore loudly. There was a creak of metal, followed by a loud crack as I looked up, and saw the cell door had been ripped off and tossed to the side like it was nothing. Sam aimed a punch at the one that came in, and I stood to fight as well. The angel just brushed it off like it was nothing, and slammed Sam in to the bars.

I kicked at her ribs, but my leg was caught before it could connect. Sam's headbutt to her nose caused her to drop my leg before anything worse could happen, but when she threw Sam… He hit the bricks hard, and I was torn between who to stand in front of.

The second angel came in to continue the assault on Sam, whereas the first one advanced towards me. "Angel whore," she sneered. I held my hand out on impulse, causing the angel to halt. When nothing happened, she smirked. "And… Powerless, too. Oh this will definitely please my bosses." She advanced quickly then, aiming a punch at my face. I blocked it, barely, but her next one to my ribs definitely connected. I fought back a grimace, aiming a knee to her stomach. It did nothing, though. She was an angel.

The realization that I wasn't strong enough to fight back this time hit me like a freight train.

"How does it feel," she asked, shoving me in to the brick. "To be the most useless person in the room now? How does it feel to no longer have Castiel to protect you, or that stolen grace, or any sort of power?"

"How does it feel to know he'd rather bang a human than an angel?" I spat back, spitting in her face. She glared, and swung a punch hard across my jaw. Then she threw me in to the bars, and reached down to grab Jack's arms. My head connected solidly with metal, and I slumped to the ground. I couldn't see straight. I couldn't think straight. I could just barely remember that there were only two angels in the room, not four, and one of them… One of them was beating mercilessly on Sam, whereas the other was trying to take the kid. "Jack," his name came out slurred from my mouth. "Leave him alone."

It wasn't working, though. I reached a hand forwards again, trying to push the angels away, but… But nothing was happening. Something had to happen. Anything had to happen. I spat blood, and tried to stand.

"Get back down, whore." The angel ordered, aiming a kick towards me. "We'll deal with you next, don't worry." The kick connected solidly with my chin, knocking my head back in to the bars solidly. There was a ringing sound, and I could… my head… I didn't even know. I couldn't focus enough to know. I couldn't make sense of anything. There were angels. There was Sam. Dean wasn't there. I… I…

I could've sworn I heard Castiel's voice, in my mind. He was shouting for me to get up, shouting for me to move, to do something, but I just… I couldn't. I couldn't make the idea of the action connect with the necessary functions to go through with it. All I knew was that there were angels, and that they probably weren't about to take me to Heaven.

"Cas…" I muttered. There was a blindingly bright flash of light, and eight people became four… wait… there weren't eight people… there were… there were only two, now. Sam… Sam and Jack…

Had Castiel answered me? He couldn't have, there were only four – no, two Kylie. Only two people – in the room. Someone must've done the thing… with the symbol… and the blood…

"Sam," I croaked, squinting. There was more to my sentence, I knew there was, but I couldn't remember exactly what. The headache didn't go away, but Jack looked like he was just normal Jack. Wasn't him. Concussion, probably, or something else.

I heard what sounded like a door again, and footsteps behind me. Sam moved out of the cell, and Jack… He stood near me, right up next to the bars. This other woman was talking, and there was movement followed by more light. Jack was a foot in front of me, with an angel blade protruding out of his chest.

"Jack?" I asked, having to focus to make sure what I was seeing was real. Castiel was there, an angel blade protruding from his chest. It wasn't Castiel, though. When I blinked, it was Jack, pulling the blade out of his chest. Another blink, and it was still Jack. No Castiel.

Sam ran to Jack, making sure he was OK, whereas I found Dean in front of me. At least, when I blinked a few times he stayed Dean. "Hey, hey, kiddo, you with me?" He asked, feeling the back of my head. I blinked, and it was still Dean. His fingers came away just fine (how many fingers was he holding up? Six? Eight? Too blurry to tell), and he let out a small sigh of relief. "Good. Not too bad. Stay with me, OK?" He looked over at his brother and Jack for a moment, motioning them towards me. "Let's get her to the car." I blinked again, and it was Castiel. Nobody else was there.

"Cas?" I asked, squinting. The front of his shirt blossomed red, and I blinked again. Dean was there. Dean was helping me up. There were two other sets of arms helping to stabilize me as I rose, but I couldn't quite get the ground under my feet to stay solid.

"No, Kylie." Dean's voice, shaking his head. "No, Cas… Cas isn't here."

They helped me get in to the car, and for a moment I could've sworn I saw an ambulance outside. It wasn't important, though. Dean talked to someone as Sam set me up with a few things. Water. Some sort of medicine. I leaned heavily against the doorframe, but I was sitting upright in the car. As more and more time went on, I started to put the pieces back together in my head again.

More importantly, I stopped seeing Cas at random intervals when I blinked. Each time I did see him, he was in the car with me, but… There was still that wound in his chest. He wasn't saying anything, wasn't even looking at me. He just… he looked dead.

Nobody was in the car with me, though. That I knew, and did my best to keep that thought implanted in my mind. Sam and Dean were outside. There… There actually was an ambulance, and Sam and Dean were watching it. The kid… Jack… He was outside too, on a bench. Cas…

No, Cas wasn't there. Cas wasn't in the car with me. Castiel was dead.

When they all got in the car, I knew what had to happen next. Sam and Dean didn't say it, but I knew. Jack asked, though, sitting next to me.

"Where are we going?" The Nephilim asked.

"We…" Sam glanced back over at me as Dean answered, making sure I could take the news. I already knew, though. I nodded at him. "We're going back to the house."

"Why?"

"There's something we have to take care of." Sam replied, looking over at me again. "Are you alright?"

"The world isn't spinning anymore." I replied. "And… And I can form correct sentences. It all still hurts like a mother, but… I'm OK."

"That's not what I meant." Sam stated. I didn't look at him this time, just turned my gaze out the window.

"I said I'm OK, didn't I?" I asked. He didn't say anything else, just turned forwards as Dean started the car.


	4. Saying Goodbye

The drive was silent, which helped my head clear out more. It wasn't perfect when we got there, but it was better than showing up out of my mind, which was something. It was still daylight, surprisingly. It felt weird to be back here in the daylight, on an absolutely normal day. No rain. No clouds. It was like… Like the world or the weather or the universe had no idea of what had transpired here; like it had all just decided to sweep the incident under the rug and call it a day.

Everyone got out of the car except me, and when Sam stopped to help I shook my head. "Give me a little bit." I requested. He nodded, once, and went to the back to talk with his brother. Not long after, Sam and Jack disappeared inside the house, whereas Dean took a seat in the back next to me.

"You feeling any better?" He asked.

"Mostly, yeah."

"Kylie…" He thought for a second. "Earlier, in the jail cell… You looked at me and called me Castiel. Sam told me he heard it a second earlier, too."

"I know."

"Why?"

"Because I could hear him." I replied. "I could hear his voice, telling me to get up and to keep fighting and to keep going, but I couldn't do it. And then I could see him, with the angel blade in his…" I couldn't finish that sentence, so I moved on. "And I kept blinking and seeing him sometimes, just dead with the blade or with a red hole and I," I took a breath, stopping myself from rambling on. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm not seeing him anymore, and I'm not hearing him. It was just a concussion thing."

"That's not what I'm worried about." He replied. "I'm worried about you. Sam told me that you were ready to die, in that other world." I looked away at that. Sam had told him. Of course Sam had told him. "And last night… You said it was supposed to be you."

"Yeah." I said. "I remember."

"Why would you do that, Kylie?" He asked. "How could you even think that was an OK thing to not tell us?"

"The spell to close the Rift had two major components." I replied. "I didn't have it all figured out until Crowley put in the rest, but they were angelic grace and a life, willingly sacrificed. It wanted all of the grace, and all of the life, not just a little bit of it. I couldn't ask… ask Castiel to sacrifice his grace, but I had some in me, and it was directly tied to my magic." I shrugged, still not looking at him. "I figured that… if I gave everything, then it would be fine. If I sacrificed everything, then everyone else would make it out OK. Crowley would be fine. Mary would be fine. You and Sam and Cas…" I wiped away a tear, hearing my voice start to break. "I didn't care about me. I wasn't important in that equation, not enough to let live. And when removing all of that started to rebound back on me… I knew that it would be the easiest choice to kill me, so that the rest of you could live. Killing me would've closed the Rift faster. You guys would've made it out, still, all of you would. Including Crowley and Cas. You all would've been safe on this side, and Lucifer wouldn't have had enough time to get out." I shook my head. "But Crowley… That stupid son of a bitch… He wouldn't do it."

"I don't blame him." Dean said, surprising me. "I would blame him more if he had done it, and shoved the blade through your heart. If Cas were here, and Crowley was here, then Crowley would've been dead in an instant because he didn't come back out with you."

"I was actually banking on him being him, and kind of disappearing before you guys could do that." I pointed out.

"But you still didn't answer my question." Dean argued. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Wouldn't have been worth the argument." That was kind of it. They wouldn't have let me do this willingly, would've argued and fought and Cas… Cas would've been different. He was driven when he didn't know. Focused. He believed in what we were doing. "It was better to not tell you guys, and to just… Just get it done."

"You promised Cas you would marry him."

"I know."

"He believed in that."

"I know."

"You lied to him."

"You don't think I remember that?" I asked, suddenly enraged as I looked over at Dean. "You don't think that I keep replaying that conversation over and over and over in my mind, because that was the last one I had with him. I was so certain that I would die, so I lied and said that we would get married after this. If Cas hadn't… If Lucifer hadn't…" I bit my tongue, trying to calm down. It only worked for a moment. "The other me did it, and got married. The other me made better decisions, and she died too. So why do I have to live, when all I've done in life is make one shitty decision after the other, one mistake and screw up after the next and causing everyone I care about to hate me at one point or another, when the other me was good and she died? Why do I have to live and she has to die when she should be the one that was alive, alive and well and still making better decisions than I ever could, but I have to live with all of this?" I took a few shallow breaths, realizing how little sense I was probably making. "Out of all the decisions I've made in my life, I wanted to make a good one. I wanted to make one that mattered, and that would save the people I cared about. I wanted to be good. And now…" I looked over at the house. "The man I was supposed to marry is over that way, dead, and I can't help but think that it's my fault; my fault for Crowley killing himself, my fault for Mary being gone, my fault that Castiel is dead and over there, and I'll have to see that again, and then I'll have to burn his body, and it's still my fault."

I stopped myself fully then. If I kept going, I was just going to keep rambling. I just… I had to hope that Dean understood what I was saying. I wasn't certain if I could string the correct words together to explain it properly at this point.

"Well…" Dean said. "I can tell you that's all a big piece of bullshit, because it is, but I don't think that that'll really stick in your head until you actually are willing to admit that yourself. I can tell you that you did the best you could, that nobody blames you for anything that happened last night, but I doubt that you'll listen to that either just yet. So here's what I'll tell you instead." I listened quietly, waiting for him to speak. "You have a choice here. You can sit in this car, if you want. I'll tell Sam and Jack that you're still not feeling up to par enough to get out, and you can stay here while we do what we have to do. I doubt anybody would blame you for that."

"Or?" I asked.

"Or… You can get out with me, you can help me and Sam and Jack burn the bodies, and you can say your goodbyes. I can't tell you that this won't be painful, because it will be. It's going to be just like when we… when we had to say goodbye to Kevin. It's going to suck. But you'll be there, which I think Cas would've wanted. It's your choice, it's all entirely up to you, but… Either way, at the end of the day, I still believe in you. Sam still believes in you. I don't believe in Lucifer junior in there," he pointed at the house. "I'm still waiting for him to turn bad and kill us. But for what it's worth… I may not have been your number one fan when I first learned about you going witch, but I still believed in you, and that won't ever stop. So whatever choice you make… Know that I'm not going to stop believing in you, no matter what." He looked at me for a little longer before getting out, closing the car door gently behind him.

After a few more moments, I realized that there wasn't really a choice after all, no matter how nicely Dean had phrased it. Cas made it through thinking I was dead. I could… I could say my goodbyes. I could do that.

So I got out of the car slowly, and saw Dean leaning against the frame, waiting. "You knew I'd get out, didn't you?" I asked.

"I didn't." He replied honestly. "I just believed that you would make the right choice, even if it was also the hard one. I, personally, think you have a knack for doing that."

I walked with him inside the house, and we saw that Castiel's… No, I had to be able to say it. I had to at least be able to think the words, even if my ability to say the truth was sporadic. Castiel's body had been moved inside, and covered with a white sheet. Neither of us particularly questioned how or why. That wasn't really worth it. He was still dead.

He was dead.

Dean lifted up the sheet to double check, and nodded over at me. I came to stand behind him and saw him; saw Cas. His face was surprisingly peaceful as he laid there, on a kitchen table, his body about to be burned.

I reached for his hand gently, grasping it tightly for a second before removing the ring from it. I could see the necklace chain still on the table. When Dean looked at me questioningly, I already knew my answer.

"He kept them when he thought I was dead." I replied. "I… I can't just let this get burned with him."

"What if it makes his ghost get stuck?" Dean asked. I shook my head.

"It won't." I stated, absolutely certain of what I was saying. I knew, somehow, that it wouldn't. "Angels don't come back as ghosts, anyways." Dean didn't say anything after that, just let me take the ring. I laid his hand back down just as gently, and after a moment's hesitation leaned down to kiss him one more time. I moved away after that. Dean took a few more seconds to look down at his best friend before laying the sheet back down. I looked behind him at the curtains that were hung. They were flimsy, thin… Something that would light with ease.

Dean followed my gaze and saw the same thing. "Go get the chain." He told me, his voice soft. I nodded as he began to tear the curtains down, picking up the thing delicately, as though it would break any second.

"I know this is the worst time to ask, I am fully aware and I'm sorry if this makes you feel odd or… unsure. But I love you, and I've regretted from the beginning that I hadn't married you like I promised. So please, Kylie, after this is over," he undid the necklace and removed the ring from it, placing it delicately on my finger before he clasped both my hands tightly. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Not a lie. I would've married him. I still wish I had before.

Just a promise that I didn't think I'd live to keep, but a promise I would rather make and risk breaking than a promise I wouldn't make to him in the first place.

I put his ring on the chain, and after looking at it for a moment longer clasped it properly behind my neck. I felt a little better in doing this, in having a bit of him with me.

I always believed that I could do anything, with Castiel's unwavering belief that I could accomplish whatever urging me on. Wearing the ring around my neck, like he had when the tables were reversed… I could feel his belief in me again.

I could do this. For Cas, I could do this.

I helped Dean tear off the thin curtains, and together we bound Castiel's body in them and the sheet. Upstairs, I could hear Sam and Jack doing the same thing. A few hours later, we had a funeral pyre built and two bodies ready to be burnt. It was darker by then, sunset. I stared at it all, finally letting everything sink in. They were dead. Cas was dead. Kelly was dead. I wished I had a body to burn for Crowley, but I had nothing. Anything that could've been his… It was probably back at the Cabin I didn't even know how to drive to.

"Do you wanna say anything?" Sam asked, looking over at me and Jack. I knew I did, I had so much to say that I didn't even know how to get it all out. Jack looked perplexed, however, at the notion.

"What do you say?" He asked.

"Right." Sam muttered, nodding a little as he thought. "Thank-you," he started, nodding a little as he did it. "You say thank you." Dean sloshed gasoline over the pyre as Sam continued. "And you say you're sorry. You hope that they're somewhere without… without sadness, or pain. You hope they're somewhere better." He paused, then, and I could hear his voice about to crack. I finished it for him, the sounds of gasoline and crickets falling miles away from me.

"You say goodbye." I summed up. Jack looked between me and Sam, seeming to understand. And with Sam's outline, I couldn't help but think of all the things I wanted to say for everyone.

 _"Hello, boys." The first time I met Rowena, she couldn't have cared less that I was there. She just sipped her tea from a Styrofoam cup, more nonchalant than I ever thought anyone could be with chains around them. "Who is this new lassie? You're all just in time for tea… unless you have something else on your mind?"_ Thank you Rowena, for sheltering me and keeping my secrets when I needed you to and for not being too pissed when I retconned you. Thank you for teaching me what Crowley couldn't, for shielding me from Amara, and for not freaking out when you learned the truth. Thank you for shielding me from Lucifer, and for advising that I not cross a line that would damn me for eternity. I'm sorry that I took your memories away how I did, I'm sorry that I deceived you for so long, and I'm sorry for all the times I put you in danger and for more than likely putting you directly in Lucifer's line of sight. I'm sorry that I didn't really ever give you a hug. I'm sorry that you died thinking you were the last of your lineage left. I hope that you're not in Hell, but that somehow God said that you were OK in his book and so he made sure you got the express train up. I hope you're happy in your Heaven, probably back in those times with Oskar. I hope you enjoy a peaceful and ritzy eternity. _"Don't worry about it dear." She told me, the last words I would ever hear her say to me, as she pat my shoulder lightly. "Everything meets its end eventually."_

 _"Mick Davies." He introduced himself almost in a James Bond style, offering a hand. He was in the back seat of the car that picked me up. The first time I met him, I shook his hand as firmly as my father taught me to for business meetings. "I've heard a lot of good about you from Mr. Ketch."_ Thank you Mick, for keeping my secret and for believing I was actually good. Thank you for having power bars stashed in the Compound. Thank you for listening to my ideas. Thank you for not turning out to be a total dick like Ketch. I'm sorry that you died, and that I couldn't save you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to learn you were dead. I'm sorry that I burnt the Compound that you actually put a lot of work in to, and made sure the only things left were ashes. I hope that whatever your Heaven is like, it's nice, and that you really enjoy it. I hope it's better than the shitty world you left behind. _"I won't tell Ketch if you won't." His promise, about my abilities to get in and out of the Compound; the promise he kept to his last breath. "Sounds good. And as for your reassignment request, I'll have to confer with Ketch more on it, but I see no reason in why you wouldn't be able to work with the angel in finding Lucifer's child." He laughed a bit at that. "You may end up making more headway with him than he has been on his own, much less the rest of the Men of Letters back in London."_

 _"My name is Thomason Jones." He was scared of me at first, and was outright lying about a lot of other things too, but I didn't care now. That was in the past, and that didn't matter. "Lady… Lady Bevell told me you were dangerous, and needed to be monitored."_ Thank you T.J., for being my best friend. Thank you for listening. Thank you for not wanting to kill me. Thank you for playing with Karma and talking with me and encouraging me to do the things I was afraid of. Thank you for being a good person. Thank you for putting up with my crappy jokes. Thank you for trying to warn me, and trying to get us both out before shit hit the fan. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you, either, and that I didn't even realize that it wasn't you until it was too late. I'm sorry that I started out as someone you hated. I'm sorry that I didn't see what was up sooner. I'm sorry that you gave your life trying to protect me, and I hope that everything I do from here on out is something that makes it all worth it. I hope that your Heaven is you with your family again. I hope that you're happy. I hope that you meet Kevin in Heaven, if you can, and get to see the other best friend in my life that I had and that died, because I think the two of you would've gotten along great. I hope that you can rest easy knowing that they didn't kill me, and that I tore it all down instead. _"Just be careful." Those were the last words I heard from him that I knew were from him, and not the copy. Just be careful. The time stamps on the file about him showed that he died maybe two weeks after this phone call._

 _"Is this… Is this Kylie?" The first time I spoke with Kevin's mom was on the phone. I didn't see her in person until a few hours later. "My name is Linda Tran. I was told that you were… A good friend of Kevin's." When I finally met her in person, she had been ecstatic to meet me and had given me the biggest hug I could imagine. I broke down crying because of that hug. It was a true mom hug, something that I hadn't experienced in a long time._ Thank you Mrs. Tran, for being the mom I hadn't had for a very long time. Thank you for encouraging me to go back to college. Thank you for supporting me in my choices to also hunt. Thank you for being OK with me bringing home a hellhound for a dog. Thank you for being a great mom, and for helping me study and making sure I was on the right track and for giving me a home when I wasn't certain where that was anymore. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for caring. I'm sorry that you died, and that I wasn't there to protect you either. I'm sorry that the Men of Letters got to you, and I didn't even know until it was much, much later. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect your son as well either. I'm sorry that I didn't finish college. I'm sorry that I didn't take your advice about everything else until after you couldn't see it. I hope that you're happy with Kevin, up in Heaven. I hope that you both enjoy yourselves there, and that you're both doing whatever makes your day. I know that you're at peace, and hope that it stays that way. _"Bye, Kylie, and good luck. I know that you can do whatever it is you've got to do."_

 _"You'll have to tell me if the burgers are any good." The first time I met Mary Winchester was after a hunt. I didn't realize exactly who she was until a little later in the conversation. In turn, she hadn't learned I had a hellhound with me that day until months after the fact. It was an interesting introduction that we both laughed at later on._ Thank you Mary, for calling me family as well. Thank you for being the first Hunter I met that didn't want to kill me. Thank you for believing in what I did, and for not judging how I did it. Thank you for having two great sons that saved my life too. Thank you for making me welcome and accepted. Thank you for saving us. I'm sorry that the Rift didn't close in time. I'm sorry that I brought you in to the Men of Letters. I'm sorry that they screwed with your head, and I couldn't stop them. I'm sorry for never telling you thank-you for not killing me and not hating me and for generally being OK with who I was. I hope that Lucifer did the merciful thing, and killed you outright, but if you're still somehow alive then I'm sincerely sorry that I can't get you out of there, and that you're trapped in a shitty apocalypse world with Lucifer to use you as a chew-toy. I hope that your Heaven makes you happy, and that you can still get back to it even though you're in a different universe. I hope that somehow, you're OK. I hope that you don't resent me for not being able to get you back. I hope that you were able to somehow find peace. " _Kylie!" Mary rushed to me first, holding back my hair. I was sick, I was puking in the driveway of this house. It was because of the Rift and Jack's power and an overload of things that shouldn't have existed at that moment, but were._ _I didn't realize it until now, but the last words we both said to the other were our names. Mary said mine as she made sure I was OK. I said hers as she fell in to the Rift with Lucifer._

 _"What a lovely catch here today," Crowley's voice, the first time I met him in person. That whole event was such a series of torture sessions and doing what I could to survive, I didn't even remember the first words he spoke to me until now. "Heaven's most adorable little Prophet and the one human that has eluded my grasp for years. Today must be my lucky day, don't you think?"_ We hadn't started off friends at all, not even close. I loathed him. I blamed him for a lot. We both tried to kill each other our fair share of times. But somehow a demon became one of my closest friends. Thank you Crowley, for a whole list of crap. Thank you for saving me countless times. Thank you for training me. Thank you for keeping me safe. Thank you for keeping my identity hidden. Thank you for keeping my secrets, in general. Thank you for trusting me, and for somehow bringing closure to me for the death of my own family. Thank you for failing to kill me so much. Thank you for not trying to kill me anymore. Thank you for being my council when I didn't think I had anyone left. Thank you for listening, and making sure I didn't hide anything from myself. Thank you for keeping me alive. I'm sorry that, in order for that to happen, you died. I'm sorry that I never told you outright that I forgave you. I'm sorry for not buying drinks more often. I'm sorry that I didn't see what was going on with you sooner. I'm sorry that your body is stuck in the other world, and that it won't get burned here with the others. I'm sorry that I didn't do more to stick up for you. I'm sorry that I didn't get the chance to cure you like you wanted. I don't think that you made it to Heaven, considering you're a demon and you died in an alternate universe, but I hope that despite all that you somehow still got a spot up top. I hope that if you did then Heaven isn't too boring for you, or if you didn't then wherever you are is somewhere that you can do whatever it is that actually makes you happy. I hope that, whatever faith you had in me, doesn't ever become something to question. I hope that you're with your son or in a world where your mom didn't hate your or that somehow, in death, you're a little happy. I just hope that you're happy. _"And Kylie," I was ready to die. I was waiting to die. Hell, I had made my damn peace with it! I was OK with dying! Instead, Crowley leaned down impulsively, and hugged me tightly. "Don't ever give up. Don't ever stop fighting." I didn't think of him as an enemy anymore; I hadn't in a long time. I couldn't even imagine the person that had become my friend being the same demon that killed my family, tortured Kevin, and eventually killed me too. And when he stood in front of the Devil, I knew. Somehow, I knew what he was doing. It still didn't make watching him do it, or make hearing him say his last goodbye, any easier._

 _"Why are you crying, child?" That was the first thing that Castiel ever said to me, in person. I was crying because all I could remember was my family, and when I saw him… I'd been an atheist up until that point, and right then and there was willing to convert to whatever religion he told me was correct because he was God, at the time, and God was right in fucking front of me. And he fed me, and gave me the number of someone that could help. I didn't see him again for years, and when I did… He had me under his trench coat, beaten and battered and barely alive but saved, because of him._ Thank you Castiel. Thank you for loving me, even when it was hard. Thank you for meeting me all those years ago after I prayed to you. Thank you for being real. Thank you for saving me so many times I don't think I can count anymore. Thank you for living with me, for being with me, for wanting to marry me. Thank you for some of the happiest memories of my life. Thank you for being my rock, my anchor, my reason to keep going when all seemed lost. Thank you for giving me the strength to go on, even when you weren't there. Thank you for still loving me after everything that happened. Thank you for being you, so wonderfully and perfectly imperfect that no matter what happened, the both of us still loved each other. Thank you for never leaving me. Thank you for… for…. For everything. I'm sorry that I didn't ever marry you. I'm sorry that you thought I was dead for so long. I'm sorry for hiding from you. I'm sorry for lying to you. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm sorry that we didn't get to live in the apartment for a whole year. I'm sorry that you're dead. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that I expected to be the one dead instead. I'm sorry that the Rift didn't close fast enough. I'm sorry that I didn't get to tell you I love you again, just once more, because that's all I want to do right now is tell you that I love you and I miss you and I wish to every force in this universe and the next that you were here, alive, next to me, because you promised you'd make it out, Cas.

You promised you'd be OK, that we'd be OK. You promised me that we'd get married too, don't forget that. You promised me that after all this was over, it would be you and me, in whatever life we chose to live together.

I don't know where angels go when they die, but I hope it's nice. I hope angels get a Heaven too, but considering how you've never spoken of it before I don't know, I just have to hope it's nice and that you're OK. I hope that you can forgive me for going on what I thought was a suicide mission without telling you. I hope that you're somewhere nice, somewhere happy, somewhere good. I hope that you're OK with us burning your vessel. I hope that you came to terms with the fact that you're a good man, you've always been a good man, and that I'll never stop seeing you as a good man.

I hope that I see you again someday. I hope that we can be together again someday.

I hope that when my death comes, you'll be there to greet me and tell me that you were happy in Heaven.

I hope that you're OK.

I clutched the ring around my neck tightly, remembering that last conversation one more time. Just the end of it, the important part. The part where he believed that we'd both be OK, and I wanted to believe in his hopes so badly. _"It's OK." He assured me. "I know you're scared, but it's OK. We can do this. I have faith in you, and faith in Jack."_

 _"Thank you. I love you." I hugged him tightly, and kissed him one last time. "I love you, Cas."_

I was thankful that those were my last words to him. They were good last words to go out on. They were true. I loved him. I would never stop loving him.

Everyone went around, saying their goodbyes and whatever they could as the flames licked at the wood and fabric that surrounded the dead. When it came time to me, I realized that everything I had thought, all those goodbyes that I could see in my head… I couldn't say them all out loud. It was a lot to say, and… I don't know. I didn't want to say them out loud, just keep them to myself.

I just said goodbye. It was the short version of what I was saying, and… apt. All I could do now that mattered was say goodbye.

It didn't make me feel better, but it didn't make it worse. It just made it… what it was.

They were all dead, and I was able to say goodbye. I could accept that. I could be OK with that.

We all left when the flames were gone, and only ash remained. Jack and I sat in the back seat, Dean and Sam in the front. We were going to make our way towards the Bunker and… figure things out from there.

As we left, I cast one last look backwards at the house. "Goodbye." I whispered the word again quietly, feeling one last stray tear make its way down my face.

It was all I could say. I just hoped that it was enough.


	5. Rest Stop

We stopped at a motel, eventually. Dean had been kind enough to call Jody along the way, so we could meet up eventually and I could snag the car I'd left at her place. I couldn't teleport now, so… I was kinda stuck with driving, and when we got back it would really bite to be completely reliant on the Impala for transportation. Not that there weren't a few other cars there, but… That one was one of Rowena's last gifts to me. It would be a shame to just leave it.

I woke Jack up when the car stopped, ignoring the brother's bickering on yes, we should stop and rest versus no, who the hell needs sleep (take a wild guess as to who was on what side). He woke up startled, having to take a second to analyze his surroundings before he relaxed. "Where are we?"

"Rest stop, buddy." I replied, hopping out of the car on my side. Sam and Dean grabbed their overnight bags out of the trunk, and the second they looked at me and Jack I could see a thought cross their minds – me and the Nephilim didn't have other clothes. This was all we had. We didn't even have a toothbrush. The clothes Rowena had gotten me were all still back at the Bunker.

The brothers rooted around a moment through their things. "I've got a third set." Sam offered.

"I've got an extra shirt." I held up a hand for the shirt, and Dean tossed it to me with ease.

"I guess that means you can borrow my stuff." Sam said, pulling out a few things to hand to Jack. He just stared at the articles in confusion. "They're clothes, Jack."

"I know."

"They're so that you can sleep in them, if you wanna."

"Oh." He stared at them a moment longer, thinking, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"OK, you get them sorted and I'll check us in." He ordered, looking at all of us. He pointed at me in particular. "Don't ruin my shirt. I like that one." I nodded, smirking a little as he headed off towards the main office. After a moment, though, he paused to turn around. "Two or one?" He asked. I understood the question. He was asking how many rooms to get.

"Just get one." I replied. "I think you two know how to behave like gentlemen, and what'll happen if you don't." Dean smirked for just a second before I raised an eyebrow at him, a smile never gracing my features. He blanched, then, and returned to his journey of getting to the main office.

"Where is Dean going?" Jack asked.

"He's going to get us a room." Sam answered. Jack nodded, staring at the clothes for a moment longer before looking up at Sam.

"Are these considered a requirement?" He asked. I choked back some laughter, watching Sam for an answer. He let out a short stammer of "umms" and "uhs" before looking at me for assistance. I shook my head, hands raised.

"Nope. Not my ball game." I stated. "I think you can handle this one." Sam motioned to me one more time, trying to get me to do something, but I kept my mouth shut.

So I got to listen as Sam explained what normal people do when they sleep, and how he would need to at minimum wear some form of shorts or pants.

Dean came back to seeing me laughing my ass off as Sam was red-faced. "What's so funny?" He asked.

"I don't know." Jack replied. "Sam was explaining to me the mechanics of... sleeping, and the human social requirements that go along with it, which I don't still completely understand. Apparently, this was humorous to her." I took a moment to calm myself down, taking some breaths before I spoke.

"Sam was telling him that he would have to wear pants to bed." I summed up. "And Jack kinda doesn't see what the point is."

"Great. A kid not wanting to wear pants. How original." Dean's face flattened as he handed out keys. "One room, two beds, and a couch to boot. Let's go." I noticed that he didn't hand one to Jack, but chose not to speak on it. Not worth the conversation right now.

We went and found the room with ease, and took a moment to see how it all looked. "This is nice." Jack commented, smiling a little bit. I nodded, examining the digs as well.

"Not bad." I agreed. Sam and Dean entered behind us, taking a moment to check it out themselves.

"Let's ward the room," Sam decided. "Get a bite, get a few hours of sleep, hit the road first thing." I nodded.

"I can get on board with that." I commented, reaching over to snag the remote. I clicked the TV on, and Scooby-Doo came on. "Hell yeah." I commented, taking a seat. Jack sat next to me, his eyes wide and happy as he looked at the screen. I glanced over, and for just a second… he looked like a kid.

"It's… wonderful." He commented. Dean looked over at the pair of us, furrowing his brow.

"Hey," Dean said, picking up the remote. "No."

"But…" Jack started to argue. I chimed in with him.

"Come on, Dean." He looked at me for a moment and glanced at the screen, laughing a little at the show before turning it off.

"No." He repeated. "And you're on the couch, Jack. All right?"

"Dean, I can take the couch." I offered. He just shook his head.

"No, you can snag this one bed, me and Sam will take the other." He turned to Jack. "So why don't you go over there?" He motioned to the couch. "Sit down and…" He looked around for a second, and after a bit he picked up a book off the nightstand, chuckling again. "Here." He tossed it to Jack, and I saw that it was a copy of… Of the freaking Bible? Really? "Read a book." Jack leafed through it then as he spoke. "We're out of here in a few hours."

I looked over at Dean, confused. Sam moved to talk to Jack, whereas I took the Dean side.

"Hey man, what's up?" I asked. "No cartoons and a Bible? Really?" I shook my head. "That's like… Step one in the Bible boot camp crackdown rules." Dean looked around, and pulled me towards the door.

"We're gonna go out on a food run." He told the others, jingling his keys as he went. I followed him out the door quietly, waiting until he spoke first this time. He didn't answer me properly until we got out to the car. "Look," he started, turning the engine on. "I don't like the kid."

"I figured."

"He's Lucifer's kid, Kylie!" Dean pointed out. "He's the reason for everything that happened!"

"What do you mean, he's the reason?"

"You think it's your fault, and it's not. It's Jack's." Dean pointed out the window as he drove. "He's Lucifer's son, he's got Lucifer's blood running through his veins. He's a monster, Kylie, and you know what we usually do with monsters? We kill them." He let out a sigh, focusing fully on the road. "But we can't really kill little L.J., so we've gotta keep him with us."

"Why do you want to kill him?" I asked.

"Why don't you?!"

"Because he's a kid, Dean!" I stated. "Because he was literally born yesterday."

"You didn't see what we saw." Dean replied. "You didn't see what it could do before it was even born."

"It?" I asked.

"Yes, it, because that thing in there with Sam, that's an it right there."

"Dean, you realize that I literally could've been characterized at one point as a monster, right?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No, that's the thing. You never could've been." Dean said.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well, it's the truth." He stated. "You aren't a monster. You never were. But that thing… It could control Cas before it was even born. It made him totally different. He knocked Sam and me out, chose that thing instead of his family."

"I don't see that." I said softly. "I don't see that at all."

"You can't see Lucifer?"

"No, I can." I said. "But… but I also see Cas. I see Kelly. I see all of them."

"All I see when I look at him is Lucifer's red eyes, and the way he controlled Cas." Dean's mouth was pressed in to a firm line as he said those words. "And I don't like him being near you. He opened that Rift, he's the one that screwed everything up. I'm not letting him take you too, you understand me?"

"Dean, I'm fine." I promised. "I think… I think he even healed me."

"You don't know that for sure." Dean pointed out. "You could've healed yourself."

"I really don't think I could've." I replied. "I… I can't hold a flame, I can't heal, I can't teleport… I can't even keep myself in one piece against a second-rate angel, not anymore. I doubt that I was the one who fixed myself. It was either Jack or… or I don't know."

"I still don't want him near you, or you too close to him, because I don't know what he's doing, but somehow he's hurting the hell out of you every time he uses his powers, and you can't tell me that that's a good thing." He had me there. I had no idea why I kept getting headaches that made me feel like my brain was splitting open, all I knew was that they only occurred when Jack was doing something, and they only went away when he stopped.

"Maybe… Maybe it's just an after-effect?" I tried. "From closing the Rift and everything?" Dean just glanced over at me, and I knew that what I was saying was pretty weak. "Still, though, he hasn't done anything to purposefully hurt us!" Dean laughed at that. "What?"

"I wish you saw what he did to me and Sam in the house." He said, shaking his head. "He… He freaking… I don't even know how to describe it. It was just… It wasn't good, Kylie. This kid isn't even close to good, and I don't know how you're not seeing that."

"I'm just tired of everything ending up bad in life." I said. "I just… After everything that happened, don't you think that we finally just might deserve some sort of win? Something good that can happen?" We pulled up to a burger shack, and I looked over at Dean hopeful. I wanted him to tell me that yeah, good things can still happen. Yeah Kylie, you're right, we might just be due a win this time. Yes, something good is finally going to happen.

Instead, he pursed his lips. "You'd think that, but that's not how life works Kylie. I'm sorry. It's just a big mess of bad." I didn't really say anything else as he ordered burgers, just thought. Hadn't I hoped for the same thing when the Men of Letters came around? When I went to college? When I moved in with Cas? Hadn't I kept thinking that this was it, this was going to be the point when good things finally happened and stayed that way?

He tossed me a few bags of burgers, not really interrupting my thoughts until we pulled away.

"I'm sorry that I can't tell you something different, Kylie." He said. "But I honestly don't believe that this life ever gives people like us the kind of good break that we're looking for."

"No, you're right." I agreed. "Just look at the track record. Good things just… They don't happen. You would think that statistics would be in our favor or something but… But you're right. I need to stop believing that good things can happen." I shook my head, glancing out the window. "I just… I need to stop believing in the world and what I want it to be, and start believing in what I physically see instead."

Dean didn't say anything else on the matter, and we drove back to the motel in silence (with one stop at a liquor store to grab some beers). I walked in quietly, Dean trailing behind to distribute burgers to Sam and Jack. Sam was finishing up the last few wardings. I took a look at them, and just…

I used to be able to recognize what a warding was supposed to do just by looking at them. I just… I knew, like it was a part of me. These, though… I didn't know. Some of them I recognized because they were basics that I had to teach myself before I had magic, but… I couldn't recognize any of the other ones. I knew I should know, I should recognize them, but… I had nothing. Not even a tug or something in the back of my mind.

Sam saw me staring at the wardings. "What, did I do something wrong with them?" He asked. I shook my head.

"No, no, not that… I just…" I had to say it. No point in not. If I didn't tell them then they'd think I could possibly still do it, and make it useful. "I… I can't read them." I shrugged a little with it. "I can't tell you for the life of me what the majority of these you have up are supposed to be for." Sam's face fell as I said those words, and I saw him glance towards his brother.

"That's OK." Sam said quickly. "You'll learn again. You'll just have to memorize them like the rest of us."

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "You're still a smart kid."

I nodded, and took a seat on the bed to eat. Jack continued to rifle through the Bible as he devoured a burger of his own.

"You can slow down, you know." Dean said, referencing Jack's absolute demolition of one burger before he moved on to another. "That's stuff's not gonna disappear."

"Ever seen you eat, Dean?" Sam asked, smirking as he did. Dean ignored his brother, reaching for a six pack he'd bought. He tossed me one bottle, and I popped it open with ease. Jack imitated what Dean did, grabbing a bottle of beer and offering one to Sam. Sam denied, so Jack just popped his open.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Dean interrupted, holding a hand on Jack's beer to stop him from drinking. "How old do you think you are?" Jack thought for a moment.

"3 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes." He stated, his tone so matter-of-factually that I honestly didn't even bother questioning it. Dean just moved his hand, deciding to let him drink. After Jack took a sip, he seemed to have questions to ask.

"This book," he motioned to the Bible. "It mentions my father. Not Castiel, but Lucifer." I took another look at Jack as he said that, and could see how Dean saw Lucifer too. Powerful. Determined. Similar hair, even.

I still couldn't help but see a little Cas there too, though, with his curiosity. But I had to stop doing that. This wasn't Cas. This wasn't even technically Castiel's kid. It was… It was odd.

"Oh, yeah." Dean answered. "Yeah, he's… he's big in the Bible. Lotta screen time."

"And you… you all knew him?" Jack asked. I coughed a little on my beer, remembering the steel of a witchcatcher around my neck, and the red eyes that held it.

"Well, he's not really an easy guy to know." Sam responded delicatetly. "He's, um, he's kind of rough around the edges."

"He's Satan." Dean summed up.

"And that's… that's bad." Jack stated.

"Yeah, he was a bad guy." I replied.

"Damn straight." Dean agreed. "See… he turned on his father, God."

"But he prefers to go by Chuck." I added.

"God, he's in here, too." Jack agreed. "Not Chuck though, but just God. Is he famous or something?" I nodded.

"Yeah." I said.

"Um, God basically… created everything." Sam explained.

"Yeah, and then he skipped out, leaving guys like us to clean up his messes life Lucifer." Dean concluded.

"He did go out for family time, though." I don't know why I felt the need to defend Chuck, but then again… I remembered seeing what happened when Metatron pissed the guy off. It wasn't deadly, but it could've easily been so much worse. I wasn't in much of a mood to piss the guy off.

"So, God's," Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "He's like my grandfather. He's family, and that's… That's good."

"Sometimes." Dean muttered. I stopped for a moment, remembering when I'd first been introduced to all of this. Lucifer was God's son, and Lucifer created a shit ton of demons. Does that make demons the grandchildren of God, or like Jack's half-siblings? If I'd married Castiel, would that have made God my father-in-law, or Jack my… my nephew? I shook the lineage stuff out of my way. It wasn't worth the headache, much less the concern. Dean propped his feet up on the table, leaning back to take another sip of his beer, and I watched as Jack imitated him.

Again.

"Okay, all right, will you stop?" Dean asked. Sam just smirked a little, turning his attention to the kid.

"So, Jack, we know Kelly taught you things before you were born." He stated. "And obviously, you can, you know, make people or things move with your mind." He glanced over at me as he said it, remembering seeing me do the same stuff. "But, um… what else can you do?"

"I… don't know." Jack admitted.

"Okay. For instance, say you wanted to—to be someplace else right now. Could you?" He asked. I understood what he meant. Jack, however, didn't seem to.

"What he means to ask is if you can teleport." I clarified. Jack stared at me, almost disbelieving of what I was saying.

"Teleport." He repeated. I nodded.

"Yeah, teleport." I said.

"That… That's a thing?" He asked. I nodded again.

"It's a pretty awesome thing." I commented, smirking a little bit. Dean just continued on with the explanation.

"Look, if you wanted to be on the other side of that door right this instant, what would you do?" Dean asked. Jack thought for a moment, and I could see an idea forming in his mind. We all watched with anticipation, waiting to see what the kid would do.

He got up, walked to the door, and went out to the hallway. The door closed quietly behind him.

"What?" Dean asked, shaking his head. He let out a sigh of disappointment. "Great." There was a polite knock on the door, and I got up to let him back in. Dean and Sam said something behind me, but I couldn't care less. I just let him back in, and was greeted with an optimistically smiling face.

"Like that!" He stated, looking as though he'd just done the task exactly right. I took a seat back down on the bed, shaking my head a little bit. Dean seemed to agree.

"Come on." He commented. "You're trying to tell me you didn't pick up anything before you were born? That your father never reached out to you?" The second Dean finished those words, something changed in Jack's eyes. I could feel my head start to hurt again, but not nearly as bad as it had before. Just… Just a little, like a normal headache. He wasn't quite using his powers, but something was happening. "What?" Dean asked, looking from me to Sam to Jack.

"Jack?" Sam asked. "Hey. You all right?" Jack nodded, re-focusing on us. When he did, the headache receded.

"Yeah. Uh, good." Jack replied. "I'm good." I looked at the boys, waiting to see what they would chose. This was definitely something to ask about further, yes, but at the same time… It was late. Maybe asking now wasn't the best idea.

"Why don't we all get some sleep?" I asked. "It's been a long day for all of us, I know I'm pretty beat, and we've got an early morning coming for us." I looked between everyone, making sure I made eye contact with them all. They were about to nod, but before anyone could move we heard the creak of footsteps outside our door. We all stopped then, Sam and Dean pulling out pistols as I flicked my wrists. Dean nodded once, moving towards the door. Dean opened it quickly, grabbing whoever was outside and yanking them in. The man fell to the floor, looking up at all of us, and…

"Donatello?" I asked, putting my blades away. Yep, it was the Prophet, laying on the floor with the same glasses and same portly demeanor and same, well… same guy.

But that can't be the same guy, because Donatello was dead. I had been certain for over a year that he was dead.

But there he was, in the flesh, laying on the floor of our motel room. "Sam? Dean?" He asked, looking over at me next. "Other girl?" He shook his head, and I remembered that this was probably the first time he'd ever actually seen me as, well… me. "Doesn't matter. Is God with any of you?"


	6. Like Metatron

Sam and Dean helped him up with ease, and got the man seated in a chair. We explained to him that no, we didn't have God with us and yes, I was the witch he'd originally met (but no, I couldn't cast anymore). In turn, he explained how in the hell he wasn't dead.

"I felt her power." I stated. "I felt the change. I literally felt you die."

"Well, that's kind of how losing your soul feels." He said. "It feels like hell during the process but afterwards… It's kinda like losing your appendix. You never really noticed it when you had it, you know?"

"Not even a little bit." I replied.

"Oh. OK." We all looked at him, wondering why he was here if he was soulless.

"Um, Donatello…" I started. "Don't… don't soulless people… do bad things?" I glanced over at Sam as I said it, trying to be as delicate as possible.

"Oh yeah, that. When I come to a moral croassroad, I ask myself, 'What would Mr. Rogers do?' And as soon as I nail that, I'm usually good." I couldn't help but admit that that was pretty sound logic. WWMRD was a pretty good determiner of whether or not you should do the action or not.

"Why are you here?" Dean asked next. From there, Donatello explained what he was doing, and how he was drawn to the power source we had with us. AKA – Jack. In turn, they explained to Jack exactly what a prophet was and what that meant. Judging from the amount of power that Donatello said Jack was putting off, though… It didn't take long for the brothers to determine he needed some ink.

"Kylie, you wanna come with?" Sam asked. After a moment I shook my head.

"Nah, I'll stay with Donatello." I replied. "Get him set up with his own room, chat, the whole nine." I glanced over at the man in question, and he seemed… ambivalent to the whole situation. Dean and Sam just nodded, with Dean whispered for me to set Donatello up in a room for 2. Once they were gone, I sat across from the man.

"You're alive." I muttered. He nodded.

"Yeah. I'm alive." He cocked his head to the side. "You're different."

"I know."

"You said you can't do the woo-woo stuff anymore."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"It… It's a long, long story." I explained. "But the short of it is that Lucifer is trapped in an alternate dimension, and I helped put him there."

"Ah…" He thought for a little longer. "Was that… Was that the spike from Washington?"

"You felt it?" He nodded at the question.

"I didn't start coming here until that feeling of power moved."

"Why didn't you call?"

"I prayed." He replied indignantly. "And in all honesty… I thought you all were probably dead. Well not you, you had the same stuff in you that Lucifer and Metatron kind of did, but you're a bit more like Metatron now. Back then though, two years ago?" He shook his head. "When the sun fritzed I thought you all had died, and when it fixed itself that God had managed to fix everything."

"Wait," I stopped him there. "What… What stuff inside of me?"

"The glowing stuff." He replied. "Like… purple and red and white glowing stuff. Nothing like Jack's, that's like looking at a new color and still seeing white, but also seeing the new color. But yours was like… Like the angel stuff mixed with a little something else."

"You didn't think to bring this up sooner?" I asked. He shrugged.

"It was like Metatron's and Lucifer's, like I said, and God seemed cool with you so I figured it wasn't worth asking."

"And that… that stuff…" I motioned to myself. "Can you see it now?"

"Yes and no." He answered. "It's like… I can feel it used to be there, like I could with Metatron, but… It's not. It's like a silent echo, now; like a wall just got put up in its place, with little stringy bits flowing off of it." I sunk a little lower in to my seat, doing my best to piece together the gravity of Donatello's words. It was… My power was gone. It was all gone. It had been ripped from me.

"And that… That echo…" I took a breath. "Does it look like it's fading?"

"I don't know. I'd have to be around you longer to learn that." He replied.

"Did Metatron's seem to fade?"

"I didn't see him enough to know." I pursed my lips, letting this information roll around in my head for a moment.

"OK." I decided. I didn't know what to do with this information, I didn't have a clue, but… I had it, at least. And that was something. "Do you need my help getting you set up with a room or…"

"No, no, I can do that." He assured me. "Dean said a two person one, right?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "You're probably getting me or Jack as a roommate."

"Alright." He stood up, looking uncertain for a moment. "I… I can see that what I told you wasn't what you wanted to hear, and even though I don't… don't feel sorry about it per se… I still know that it has more than likely given you things to think about that don't necessarily make you feel well, so… Mr. Rodgers says I should apologize for that, so I'm sorry that these weren't answers that you wanted to hear." I nodded once at the man, offering him a small smile.

"Thanks." I said. "Mr. Rodgers would be proud." He smiled a little at that, and walked out of the room to get himself one. I looked at the door as it closed, and examined the warding a little more on the back of it. It was… It was… Angel warding? It wasn't the angels-to-the-outfield one, but… It looked like it could be angelic.

Or it could be something that's supposed to work against demons. Or it could be something against being tracked or overheard, or something against shapeshifters, or a plethora of other possibilities that I couldn't be 100% on. I sighed, looking at the palm of my hand.

" _In… Inferno_." I whispered, trying to remember what that feeling felt like again; the feeling of my magic, my power, moving within me and pushing out to actually do what I needed, and do what was being asked of it. I imagined the fire that I was so used to seeing in my palm, but the image… It wasn't clear anymore. It was like a memory that I couldn't quite reach fully, like the ones from when I was a little kid. I could clearly remember doing it, but seeing anything but myself in the action versus the action itself, or the way I did it… That was fuzzy. I didn't even remember how I created sigils and spells anymore.

I tried focusing on the remote in front of me, and imagined it in my hand. Maybe creating something was just a little above my paygrade at the moment. Fire, health, protection… Those were things that required creation. Telekinesis, however, just required willpower. Maybe I could make something move instead.

"Come on," I muttered, focusing harder on the remote as I extended my hand outwards. "Come on. Move, dammit." I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes as I imagined the remote shooting towards my hand, forcing itself in to my palm. I had done it before. I could do it again. If there was an echo, there had to be something for it to echo, right?

But… Nothing changed. I didn't break out in to a sweat, which would show that something was trying. I didn't feel tired all of the sudden, like I was overworking myself. I didn't even feel… feel whatever it was that was supposed to flow from me to bring a stupid fucking remote to my hand.

I felt normal, and the remote stayed exactly where it was.

I reached over then, picking up the remote and throwing it hard against the wall. It hit with a large thud, and I could see the back of it fly off in a different direction. I gritted my teeth, staring at the more-than-likely broken piece of machinery now.

"Why can't you fucking work?" I asked, looking from the remote to my hands. I clenched them tightly, turning to the brick wall behind me. "Why don't you fucking WORK?!" I shouted, slamming my fist in to the wall. I felt a sharp pain in my fist, and looked down to see my knuckles scraped and bleeding. All that did was make me feel more enraged. I couldn't even heal my own fucking hands. I couldn't make things move. I couldn't light a fire. I couldn't do fucking ANYTHING.

"No fire." I gritted the words out, punching with the other hand. "No healing." Another punch. "No telekinesis." Another punch. "No teleporting." Again. "No symbols!" Again. "No sigils!" Again. "No magic!" Another. "I'm FUCKING USELESS!" I shouted the last words, offering one last punch before I stopped, taking a look at my hands. The knuckles were trashed, painful, and bloody. They would need to be bandaged. I couldn't fix them.

I glanced over at the remote again. If it was broken, I couldn't fix that either.

I took one last look at my hands, flipping them over to look at my palms. I couldn't fix anything with these hands anymore. I couldn't even fix myself.

I walked to the bathroom and started washing off the blood from my hands, uncertain of exactly what else to do. I washed them off, and wrapped them up in some towels, and afterwards took one last look at them before I shook my head. I couldn't do anything, but I could at least… Hell, I didn't even know. Not destroy myself too terribly in the process, I guess. Or at the very least, keep the destruction on the down-low. Dean and Sam had enough to worry about with Jack right now. They didn't need to worry about me, too.

Dean and Sam got back with Jack an hour or so later. Donatello was set up comfortably in his own room, and it was quietly decided by the brothers that Jack would stay with the prophet tonight. I decided to take the couch, since Dean and Sam were both a little too tall for it. After a few minutes of listening to the brothers talk I heard Jack mutter that he was still there, so I took him aside.

"Are they… Are they always like this?" He asked me quietly. I nodded.

"Yeah, kinda." I muttered, taking a glance at them. "It could always be worse."

"How so?"

"Well… You're here with us, aren't you?" I asked. He thought on that for a moment.

"OK." He agreed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because your hands are wrapped with towels." He said, motioning to them. I took a glance back down at myself, and nodded.

"I should probably throw these back in the bathroom." I pointed out. I stopped then, realizing what I'd talked with Dean about. "Jack, can… Can you heal?"

"I don't know, remember?"

"I know, but I need to know. Do you remember healing me, or how you did it?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" I asked. "It was only, what did you say, three days ago? Yeah. Three days. How do you not know what happened three days ago?"

"Because I don't know." He insisted. I could hear the conversation behind him start to tense up as we spoke more. He glanced behind us, and I could see Jack tense up with their conversation. "Why are they angry with me?" He asked. "Why are they unhappy? I didn't mean to make the tattoos disappear."

"Jack…" I muttered slowly, starting to feel that familiar ache. "Jack, calm down."

"I don't know how." He replied.

"Just walk away then, Jack." I told him calmly. "Just walk out of the room. I'll walk with you, even. We'll leave the room until everything settles, and that'll help, OK?"

"OK." He nodded. My headache reached an apex quicker than I could imagine, and then suddenly…

"Jack?!" I stood up suddenly, looking around the room. "Jack?!" Dean and Sam turned around at my voice, and noticed the same thing I did.

Jack was gone. He… He had fucking teleported. I looked over at Sam and Dean, uncertain of what to do next.

"I'll take the hallways." I offered.

"I'll check outside." Sam added.

"I'll check Baby." Dean chose.

"I… I think I know where he went." Donatello stated. "I can… kind of feel what direction he's in." I nodded, looking over at the brothers.

"I'll take Donatello." Sam revised. We all nodded, and went our separate ways to start looking. We started moving, roaming around to try and find the Nephilim. I waited until I knew I was out of sight and earshot from the others before I tossed the towels in the garbage, and walked into the bathroom near the front desk. I grabbed a lot of paper towels, and used them to wrap my hands more properly. They weren't bandages, but they were better than rags and they would work.

I got a text from Sam a few minutes later saying he and Donatello had found Jack. I replied that I was going to go back to the room, and Dean said he was going to get a drink.

I got myself settled back on the couch, taking one last look at my hands as I did. They were still a little bloody, but the paper towels at least didn't look as bad as the towels had. I knew that Dean and Sam would want to ask me about them, they weren't stupid; they'd seen the towels. They'd probably even seen the remote. They were just waiting before they asked about it.

I curled up in a small ball, getting as comfortable as possible on the small couch. My hands hurt to lay my head on, but it was still easier to do that than lay them anywhere else.

So I rested my head on top of my bloodied hands, gritting my teeth through the pain, and did my best to pass out. I feigned sleep when Sam and Jack came back to move Jack's things to Donatello's room. I feigned sleep when Dean came back. I feigned sleep when Dean and Sam talked about my hands and the remote, and it was decided that Dean would talk to me about it in the morning.

I feigned sleep until the lights were out and both brothers were down, and faking being asleep was no longer an act.


	7. Donuts with Dean

_"Cas?" He was… He was standing right in front of me. He was smiling. Why…_

 _Wait, why was that weird? Why wouldn't he be there? Why wouldn't he be smiling? Why was I questioning this?_

 _"Yeah?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. I shook my head, smiling a little bit._

 _"Nevermind. Just… just enjoying saying your name." I muttered._

 _"You ready to go?" He asked. I furrowed my brows._

 _"Go? Where?"_

 _"Our reception, Kylie." He reminded me. "Remember?"_

 _"Reception?" I took a look down at myself, and saw… A white dress. Another look at Castiel and he was in a suit, an… an actual suit. We were…_

 _I saw the ring on my hand. We were married. We had just gotten married. Of course, how could I forget?_

 _I looked back up at Cas, and smiled. "Right. Sorry. It's just… Kind of a little unbelievable to me still, you know?" I asked. He nodded._

 _"I understand the feeling." He agreed. "It's a very… human one."_

 _I looked around once more, and saw that… that we were in the Bunker? And a door was in front of us, one that led to a room I didn't quite think of off the top of my head. I looked back at Cas one more time, trying to get all the pieces to fit in to place._

 _The door opened, and… everyone was on the other side, sitting around the B.A.M.T. that had two tablecloths on top of it. Sam was there, Dean was there, Jack was there, Kelly was there, Rowena was there, T.J. was there, Crowley was there, Jody and Claire were there, Kevin and his mom were there, my family…_

 _My parents were there._

 _Art and Josiah were there._

 _Danny was there._

 _Everyone… Everyone that I ever cared about was there._

 _I stared upon the scene in a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Something was wrong. These were all people I cared about, why wouldn't they be there? Why would something be wrong with them being there? Weren't they supposed to be there?_

 _I looked around at them all again, just a little more, and saw… Differences. Sam and Dean were both beaten and bruised, and looked almost… bittersweet about everything. Jack's eyes were glowing bright yellow. Kelly's stomach was bleeding, Rowena's hair was a mess and sticking together, T.J.'s head wasn't sitting quite right on his neck, Crowley had a hole in his chest, Jody's nose was broken, Claire looked beaten and defeated, Kevin's eyes weren't there, his mom had scratches and bruises everywhere… Mom and dad and art and Josiah and Danny were all bloody messes._

 _I turned to look at Castiel, and saw the rose on his lapel start to melt over his chest. I looked in to his eyes and saw…_

 _His eyes were burnt out, hollow, and there was someone behind him. I couldn't see their face, it was hidden in shadows, but his eyes…_

 _They glowed red, and showed signs of a sadistic sort of smile._

 _"Nice try," he said, shoving Castiel out of the way. I watched as he fell to the floor, limp and lifeless. The man stepped out of the shadows and his face… He was Lucifer. I looked back over at everyone once more, and saw a room full of skeletons and death where the people had been. I looked back over at Lucifer, taking a terrified step backwards. My back slammed hard against the doorframe, stopping me from moving any more. Lucifer held up an angel blade, one that was permanently stained red. He kept smirking, and his eyes kept that same red burn of hellfire and damnation. "You're next, bitch." He shoved the angel blade towards my stomach, his eyes never leaving mine._

I woke up with a start, breathing heavily as I stared up at the popcorn ceiling. My breaths were shaky, but as I looked around I remembered where I was. I was with Sam and Dean. We were in a hotel. Jack was in the other room with Donatello.

So many people in that dream were dead now. Those that were still alive... I'd hurt a lot of people. There were a lot of things that I blamed myself for. My family was gone. Friends were gone. Crowley was gone. Cas…

I stopped breathing for a moment, that fact sinking in once more. Cas was dead too, and I… I'd just dreamed he was back. That we were married. I could feel myself wanting to break down inside again, and took a quick glance over at the Winchesters. They were asleep now, but they usually didn't sleep too much longer than I did. I reminded myself to start breathing again, and booked it with my clothes to the bathroom. Once I was in there, I tossed the towels and looked down at my hands again.

In my dream, they'd been fine. There was no proof of the damage I'd done to myself in reality. But now…

I used the time I had to toss the paper towels off of my hands so I could wash off the excess dried blood. I cried quietly as I did, I couldn't help it. I used my upper arms to wipe the tears away as I finished cleaning myself up. My knuckles were extremely beat up and scabbed, but otherwise pretty OK. They would just hurt like a bitch for a few days; especially if I tried to make a fist.

I took one more glance at my hands before I kept going, doing my best to keep tears from my eyes as I did. Once I was dressed and my teeth and hair were brushed, I headed back out of the bathroom. Dean and Sam were up by then. I tossed Dean his shirt back. He caught it with ease. "No blood. No scuffs. Just a little wrinkled." I promised as he gave it a once-over. "And it may, you know, look like a person much smaller than you slept in it." Dean rolled his eyes at me as he stuffed it back in his bag.

"You want to go get breakfast?" He asked me. I nodded. Him and Sam shared a glance that reminded me of who would be talking with me about the hands thing. I waited for Dean to get dressed and quietly followed him out, preparing for what would probably be a difficult conversation. Neither of us spoke when we got in the car.

Actually, he didn't really say anything to me at all. He just kind of… Sat there beside me, pensive and quiet. Finally though, we pulled in to the parking lot of a donut shop. Dean turned to look at me. He took a glance at my hands before meeting my gaze, and let out a sigh.

"Did it make you feel better?" He asked. I thought for a moment before shaking my head.

"No." I muttered. "It just keeps getting worse."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I… I tried to light a flame in my hand again." I explained. "And when that didn't work, I tried moving the remote. And when neither of those worked, I just… I feel useless now. I feel like I'm worthless and useless and the reminder just made it all so much worse, and looking at hands that I couldn't fix… It just…" I clenched my hands in to a fist once, and winced at the sting of the action before forcing them loose. "I went from doing anything and everything to not even being able to fully recognize the sigils that Sam drew."

"You're not useless, Kylie." Dean said.

"Really?" I asked. "Then why can't I do anything anymore?"

"You can still do things." He pointed out. "You can fight. You can talk. You're still smart and can research. You're still useful."

"I don't feel useful." I muttered. "I just feel like I'm… I'm back where I started, years ago."

"Well…" Dean shrugged. "You're going to have to find a way to become useful to yourself, then."

"How do I do that?"

"I can't answer that for you," Dean replied. "I can just tell you that I still believe in you."

"What… What are you doing?" I asked. "You seem like you've got a decent handle on your head and your responses. I don't know if it means you're grieving poorly or extremely well, but… It looks like it's working. What are you doing?"

"To be honest, kid…" Dean shrugged. "I don't have a damn clue. I'm just sticking to the plan as best as I can, and continuing to move forwards." He took another glance at my hands. "You're looking like you're having a hard time sticking to it, though. I'm pretty damn certain that a part of it was no hopelessness on your end."

"Didn't you go to a bar last night?"

"I played a few rounds of pool and gave the shot I ordered to the bartender." He narrowed his eyes a bit after saying that. "I didn't drink because I made a promise to you."

"What do you want me to say about this, Dean?" I asked, holding up my hands. "I can apologize, but I don't think that's what you want."

"I want you to buck up and be the strong woman that I know Castiel fell in love with." He replied. He didn't raise his voice, he didn't change his tone, he just stated the words in a matter-of-fact tone. "Because I know that you're better at this. I know you're grieving, we all are. But you can't destroy yourself along this road. I know exactly what's at the end of it, and it's never good." I took another look at my injuries, and knew Dean was right. What I was doing now, it wasn't going to lead me any closer to some form of closure. It would just lead to more pain.

"You're right." I muttered.

"Damn straight." He replied, and I could see a small smile on his face. "Come on, let's go get breakfast." I nodded, choosing to take Dean's lead in how to handle this. Don't be self-destructive, put it somewhere else. Dean was putting his pain in to moving forwards and figuring out the situation at hand. If he could do that, I could do the same.

For a moment, I wondered what Dean would do with two mimics instead of one. I pushed that thought to the side with a small smile, and helped Dean order donuts. The drive back was more amicable than the drive here, and I couldn't help but feel a little happy about that. I could find a common ground with Dean.

I munched on a donut or as we went back. After Dean requested some I passed one of the treats over to him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't certain how to say it.

"Spit it out." I muttered, nudging him. He shook his head.

"It's nothing, just…" He thought for a moment. "You and him are a lot alike, in different ways." I didn't have to ask who the him was. I knew it was Cas.

"How so?"

"When Cas was Cas, and we all for that matter, thought Lucifer threw you in for a permanent deep-freeze… He didn't talk much about it to us, when we were all together. He kind of kept to himself. He was just… He was a different man, then. He was a little more reserved, and determined to do something right. He didn't always do perfect at it, but… he tried. It was his own form of self-destruction, I think." He looked a little more sorrowful at that. "He was willing to destroy himself in the name of doing something to even the scores in his head, you know?" I nodded. I knew that feeling all too well also, and I believed Sam and Dean did too. All of us did, at one point or another. You just… you got so caught up in the job and in doing the right thing that you completely forgot about everything else going on, every other right or wrong besides the wrong you were trying to make right. It was a destructive feeling that could turn a person in to a destructive force.

And it was something I was trying so, so hard to fight, because I had nothing to raze after and no way to do any razing. Lucifer was in another dimension, the Men of Letters were back in London, and I had no way to go and attack anything else. I only had, well, myself.

"Why are you telling me this, Dean?" I asked politely. "Besides the fact that I asked."

"Because it's one of those things that can go good or bad, and I don't know which way it'll go for you." He replied. "But I do know that you're a strong one, you've kinda gotta be to make it this long without hitting the perma-death jackpot, you know?" I nodded. "So I figured you deserved to know that you're a little bit like he was, when he still thought you were dead. You're just as quiet about him and stubborn as you and him can be." I wanted to say something, but he kept speaking. "And I know that you just lost someone that you loved, and that for a long time it'll be hard to talk about that, but… If you want to talk or just reminisce or something… We're here for you, alright?"

"Did…" I wasn't certain if I wanted to ask that question, ask if Cas reminisced or what it was that he said. I was almost afraid of what the answer would be.

No, that's not right. I was afraid that I would never live up to the person Castiel thought I was.

"What about Mary?" I asked instead, switching topics slightly. "What if you wanna talk about her, or I wanna talk about her? Is that… Is that still OK?"

"Mom's dead." He stated that bluntly, in a matter-of-fact way. "I know that. I've accepted that and I'm still just accepting that. But if you want to talk about her too… I know Sam will want to listen." I looked down a little at that. I could understand Dean not wanting to talk about it, but still… I wanted to apologize, someday soon. I just didn't know how.

"OK." I nodded, and went back to eating my donut a little quieter. We pulled up to the motel and walked to the room, with Dean holding the donuts.

"Hey. Hey." Sam greeted us, closing his laptop to look at us. Dean waved the bag of donuts for a moment, then tossed it to Sam. He caught it with ease as Dean spoke.

"We should probably hit it." Dean said.

"I'll get the others." I offered. Dean nodded to me, and I turned across the hall. I could hear Sam start to speak to his brother as I moved.

"Uh, I was just gonna call you two, actually. Um, look… we are gonna be on the road a long time today. Right?" I tuned out the conversation after that point. Not worth listening at the moment. I walked down two doors until I hit the door to Donatello and Jack's room.

"Hey, time for breakfast!" I knocked on the door a few times, politely yet firmly. Nobody answered, though. I furrowed my brows, and knocked a little louder. "Jack? Donatello? Breakfast!" No answer. One more attempt at knocking, much louder this time. "Hey, wake up guys. Rise and shine. There's donuts!" No answer. I let out a sigh. "I swear if this is some sort of reverse Sleeping Beauty crap I will fucking walk back to the Bunker!"

No answer. Not ever the familiar shuffle of movement. I put an ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement whatsoever.

There was nothing.

"Donatello? Jack?" I rifled through my pockets and pulled out… two paperclips and a swiss army knife.

I could pick a lock with those. I hadn't had to manually pick one in a while, but… I was certain I remembered how.

I pretended that I wasn't bothered by the fact it took three full minutes for me to successfully pick the lock, and enter their room.

Nobody was there. The room looked like someone had slept in it lately, and the clothes Sam had loaned Jack were folded neatly on the end of a bed, but anything else…

There wasn't anybody in there at all.

"Jack?!" I heard Dean's voice from down the hall, and footsteps coming my way. I ducked my head out to see Dean first, with Sam behind him and Donatello bringing up the rear, holding his own bag of breakfast food. I shook my head once I saw them, eyes widened.

"He's not here." I said.


	8. Jasper

After Sam explained everything, we all hopped in to the Impala. Donatello could still feel Jack's "ping," so to speak. I couldn't find him, much less track him, so… That was our only option.

Dean drove fast, tearing down the roads faster than any cop could probably keep up with. We passed a sign after a little bit, pointing out a town. Jasper, Wyoming. For a moment I wondered how in the hell Jack had gotten here, until I remembered that Donatello's car had kinda been missing from the parking lot. Jack didn't know how to drive a car, though.

So who was with him? Was it the same person that Sam had spoken to?

"What they hell is in Jasper?" I asked after we passed the sign.

"Maybe an angel?" Dean asked. Donatello shook his head. He could feel something.

"No, something darker." As he spoke, I started to feel that familiar pressure in the back of my head. I gritted my teeth, but kept myself still and my mouth shut.

"Do you have any good news?" Dean asked, annoyed. Nobody in particular answered. "Alight, well, see if there's anything in Jasper that's… demon-y." Sam started pouring through their father's journal at those words, but once Dean spoke… I remembered something.

I remembered something Crowley had shown me, after I hid with him from the Men of Letters. A map of different Hell gates, in case I needed to run there again. One or two in Greece, two in the UK, eight more in general scattered about Asia, two extra ones in general in Europe, five in Africa, three in Australia, six in South America, and seven in North. One was in Kansas, one was in New York, one was in Mexico, one was in…

One was in Wyoming.

Specifically Jasper, Wyoming. But it was marked differently on the map. He told me never to go to that one. Why had he told me never to go to that one?

"It's a Hell Gate." I muttered, trying to hard to remember. Why couldn't I remember?

"It's more than that," Sam added, looking up from the journal.

"Fantastic." Dean muttered.

"According to legend, this particular gate leads to, quote, 'place where unimaginable evil emanates from creatures too wicked for the Pit to hold.'" Sam said. I focused on those words, and could just barely feel a memory start to surface.

 _"What's wrong with Jasper?" I asked. Crowley shook his head._

 _"It's nothing good." He replied. "Ancient evil. Older than most evils. Worse than most evils."_

 _"Worse than you?" I'd joked with him a little bit then, nudging him slightly with it. He didn't return the jest, though. He looked extremely serious._

 _"I'm serious, Kylie." He stated. "That is an entrance to Hell, but to the worst part of Hell. Worse than the Pit."_

 _"What, does that take me to the Cage?"_

 _"No." The somber tone of his voice sobered me as well. He was talking about something worse than the Cage, worse than LUCIFER. "Stay away from that Gate, Kylie. Promise me you won't ever open it."_

 _"Yeah, yeah, I promise." I nodded along with the words. There was more to this memory, I knew there was, but my head…_

It got worse as we kept driving, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to the present. Dean took a sharp turn, and I was slammed in to the door. I curled in to a ball, grasping my head. Sam took a glance at me, helping to stabilize me in my seat for a moment. "What's wrong?" Dean asked. I didn't answer, and I knew that it wouldn't take much for Dean to realize what was up.

Only one thing caused these headaches, but the reason why… I still had no clue.

It kept getting worse and worse as we drove, and I wasn't helping. I knew that somewhere, somehow, I KNEW what was behind that gate. It had been somewhere in my head, at one point or another. Men of Letters, files on entrances to the Supernatural. Entrances to Heaven, to Hell, to Purgatory… Something in my head, something was there, some answer that I knew I should know but didn't know.

The car screeched to a stop, and doors opened. I straightened myself out enough to get out of my own, and stood as tall as I could. Jack was…

He was doing it.

He was doing a force push, straight in to the ground, opening up the gate. And there was another Donatello by his side, urging him on.

"Jack!" Sam shouted. Jack looked over at us, then, and I could feel his power lessen just a bit. "Jack, stop!"

"Don't listen to them, Jack!" The fake Donatello argued, urging Jack to keep going. I looked at what he was doing, and saw… A hand. A few different hands, pale and spindly and sharp and grasping at the ground they were crawling out of. I leaned against Dean, clasping my head. Jack may have abated slightly, but it was still so much, and whatever was coming out of that pit…

It was bad. It was worse than Lucifer and the Cage.

"Holy crap." Dean muttered, and I knew he was seeing what I was seeing. Jack didn't stop, though. He kept going. It looked like he didn't know how to stop. Some other words were exchanged, but I couldn't hear them. All I heard was Crowley's voice, in the back of my mind. Stay away. Never open. Worse than Lucifer.

I recoiled from Dean once he fired off a shot, and fell to the ground. I couldn't hear, it was all… all covered up by a piercing tone in my head. But I could still see the fake Donatello turn in to someone else, someone in a white suit and longer hair.

Someone with yellow eyes, just for a moment.

He held up a hand, and I couldn't breathe. The pitch was abating, and I could hear voices now, but that didn't matter. I was choking. I clawed at my neck, on reflex throwing out a hand to try and stop whatever was happening. I kept choking, though. I felt the headache recede for a bit, but that didn't matter. Whoever had taken Jack… they were killing all of us.

It came back in a blur, that headache, and I was torn between grasping my head and grasping my throat. I could hear words from Jack, though. They were as clear as a bell. "You're hurting my friends!" Then, as soon as it all came…

It was gone.

My head was fine, and I could breathe.

I stood up carefully, using the Impala to brace myself as I looked over at Jack. The hole in the ground… it wasn't there. It was like it never existed. I looked between it and Jack, amazed at everything in front of me.

This must've been how everyone else felt when they saw me do my magic shit. Amazed and confused and… scared. Definitely more than a little scared.

"Kylie, are you alright?" Dean asked. I nodded as Sam walked over to retrieve Jack, checking to make sure he was OK as well.

"Who was that?" I asked, looking over at Dean. He shrugged.

"I don't know." He admitted. "How did you know this was a Gate to Hell?"

"Crowley…." I took a breath, feeling more of the memory come back.

" _Yeah, yeah, I promise." I nodded with the words, fully believing that when Crowley said something was worse than what could easily be considered Hell's worse, then he meant it. "What's… What's behind that Gate, Crowley?"_

 _"Something that Lucifer was so scared of, he locked them up himself." That was all Crowley would say. He didn't tell me the name. He didn't look like he even wanted to say the name._

 _I didn't press further after that. I knew that Crowley would tell me in time._

"Crowley told me." I said, unable to take my eyes off of what used to be a gaping hole in the ground, with… things trying to crawl out of it.

"Did he tell you what was behind it?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Only that it was very, very bad." Dean looked up at Sam and Jack, and I followed his gaze. They were making their way towards us, with Jack looking nervous and Sam looking… scared. Scared and uncertain.

None of us knew what we had just barely stopped. All we knew was that, for some reason, it all revolved around Jack.

For better or for worse, Jack was the key to it.


	9. Evaluation And Re-Evaluation

We made it back to the Bunker without any other difficulties. Jody called on the way, and said some business came up and she wouldn't be able to meet with my car after all. It was no worries, I could go up and get it some other time.

When we got back the first thing I did was grab my notebooks and head towards a more secluded section of the library. Dean saw what I was doing, and offered me a small nod of approval. I was sticking to the plan. Get back to the Bunker. See what's up with my "mojo," as Dean had called it. Go from there.

I settled myself in comfortably, resting on my favorite couch. It was nice, being back. Homey. Comforting. I opened up the first notebook; the first one I'd ever had. I'd added stuff to the back pages, different ideas and outlines that worked against miscellaneous creatures. I remembered writing them, trying to brainstorm new ways to protect ourselves.

The idea of continuing it was kind of trashed, now, considering what the Men of Letters actually wanted from me. I pushed that thought aside though, and flipped straight back to my designs. The first one, labelled in large English letters, was "Vampire Sigil."

Vampire sigil. Probably a part of Project V. I put a lot of work in to that stuff; a lot of time and focus and brainpower. I had to remember something, right?

I could read my work, read the design and the plans, but the way it was structured… My heart sank as I realized I didn't understand it. I could probably give my best shot at re-creating some of this stuff, but… I wasn't certain. I didn't even remember how I'd come to drawing this in the first place. Nothing that I'd written… I knew it worked, yeah. I distinctly remembered it working. But HOW it worked and why it worked and why any of it worked… None of that made sense.

"These are later drawings." I muttered. "Maybe if I go back to the easier stuff I did, the starter stuff, it'll make more sense." I rooted around through the notebooks before me until I found the earliest one I could, and realized that… Nothing I did in these was easier or starter or simpler. All of it was complex, and the only reason I'd written them down was because they required me to; they required a physical, visual component. Some of them, I recognized as ones I'd drawn in the house or that Sam had actually drawn (Sam used my sigils? When had he seen them?) in the motel.

Other things that were written didn't require a visual per say, but needed to be written down so that they could be worked through properly; or at least, that was the reason I told myself as I read a spell that required no visual, but required the mixing of wolfsbane, chamomile, and dead man's blood among other ingredients. It was supposed to be for the multi-tool project I'd been working on, something that could analyze, acknowledge, and react to different types of creatures. But as to how it worked… I didn't have the faintest idea.

Nothing I wrote was easy, and if there weren't clear headers denotating what the purpose was (and for a good third of what I had written, there wasn't), I had no idea what it was supposed to be for or do or anything besides being able to read what I had written. None of it made any sense anymore. It was like the part of me that understood magic and spells… it had been ripped out.

In all honesty, there was a good chance that that analogy was correct.

I set the notebooks down slowly on the nightstand, and sunk in to the couch so that I was laying down fully on it. I… My notebooks were the last thing I had been holding on to. I was hoping that seeing them, reading my work, would at least bring back something; at the very least they could still be useable for different spells. But I didn't understand them. I could read them, but it was like reading Welsh or Irish or something – I could do my best to sound out the phonetics, but in all honesty I had no clue what I was saying or reading.

The only one who probably could've understood what I was doing was Crowley, and he was dead too.

I ran my fingers through my hair, fighting back tears. "You will not cry." I ordered myself, keeping my voice hushed. "You have cried enough for the past few days. You are stronger than this. You will not cry. You will be fine." I pursed my lips, forcing back the anger and frustration that wanted to overflow. So what, I couldn't really understand what I'd created in these notebooks over the past two years. They weren't useful now, so I would just… just get rid of them. There we go. There's useless, just get rid of them.

Just get rid of what's useless, Kylie. Just get rid of everything useless.

"Are you alright?" I looked up to see Jack, standing hesitantly next to a bookshelf. I nodded, straightening myself out a little as I sat up.

"Yeah, I… I'm fine." I gave him a once-over, and saw he looked physically OK. "You?"

"I… I don't know." He admitted honestly. I took another look at him and saw his shirt… It looked like he had been stabbed, multiple times. I stood up then, moving quickly to analyze.

"What in the hell happened?" I asked, looking him over.

"I… I did." He replied. "I… I inserted a sharp knife in to my chest and stomach, but… Nothing happened." I looked up at the kid, understanding the simpler version of what he was saying. He tried to die. He failed.

"Why would you do that, Jack?"

"Because… Because I think I'm bad." He replied. "Donatello thought so, and he speaks for God. I was doing a… a bad thing for a bad man, and I didn't even realize it until I was almost done."

"Yeah, well… Nobody's perfect, kid." I wasn't quite certain what else to say about that. I looked at the clock on the opposite nightstand, and saw it was once again quite late. "You… you want some hot tea or something?"

"What's that?" I laughed a little at that.

"It's… Ah… It's something that I like to drink when I'm not feeling too good." I decided on. "It… It's not perfect, and I don't know if it actually does anything to help. But it's something and that's better than nothing for me." Jack looked confused by my answer, and I realized it hadn't been a good one. "Come on. You like chocolate, right?" His face lit up at that.

"Yes. With nougat." He clarified. I nodded.

"Yeah, I remember." I thought for a second. Yeah, I still had a few hot chocolate mixes in the kitchen. "Come on. I'm going to make me some tea and you some drinkable chocolate." I walked past him to the kitchen, and after a moment he followed.

"You can… You can drink chocolate?" He asked, sounding amazed by this revelation.

"Yeah, but no nougat in this one." I replied, keeping a brisk pace. Jack matched it beside me after maybe a second. "I can do marshmallows, though. I'm pretty certain that this is the mix with them already added in."

"OK." He still looked a little unsure, but the kind of unsure where you know you're gonna do the thing anyways. He followed me all the way to the kitchen. With a little assistance he was able to follow simple directions with ease to make the drinks. After maybe seven or so minutes, we both had a warm mug in our hands as we sat down back where I had been. I smiled as I sipped my tea. It was bitter, just the way I liked it.

Jack followed suit, recoiling after a second. "It's hot." He commented. His eyes glanced up at me with worry.

"It's supposed to be." I explained. "Try blowing on it." He did as I told him, and after a few more seconds was enjoying the drink fully. I continued to sip at my tea. In the back of my mind, I could feel my own refusal to look at my notebooks.

Jack didn't seem to share that feeling.

"What are those?" He asked, pointing to the damned things. I took another sip, deciding to give him the simplest answer.

"Old ideas for things."

"What were they for?"

"Nothing that I can use now." I stated.

"Then why keep them?"

"I might not." I admitted. "I'll probably just… I don't know. Throw them away or something, now." I forced myself to glance over at them for just a moment. Almost two years of hard work and effort and creativity and enjoyment… and now they were useless; boring and worthless wastes of space.

"May I… May I look at them?" He asked. I thought about it, and realized it wasn't worth not showing him. Hell, the majority of it he wouldn't be able to read. I still wrote all my important notes in Pictish Swirl, even my spells. I handed him the first notebook with a shrug.

"Yeah, why not." He opened it to the first page, and saw the few notes I'd actually written in English. Stuff on demons and angels and vampires and werewolves and, well… whatever I had learned from Sam and Dean and Kevin way back when. He flipped through idly, stopping when he got to the spells.

"What are these?" He asked, showing me the page. It was the same one I'd started on – the one titled "Vampire Sigil."

"Spells. That one is supposed to be a warding." I stated. "It's supposed to do… something… to vamps." In truth, I didn't even remember WHAT it did in the first place. Hurt them? Kill them? Mark them? I didn't know.

"What are these marks?" He asked, pointing to the swirls.

"A different language." I replied. "I learned it online. Pictish Swirl."

"Oh." He looked at them again. "It's interesting."

"Thanks." He examined the page more, moving to the next and to the next. I took a few more sips from my tea, gathering up some courage. "Jack…" He looked up, registering the change in my voice. "I know I asked you this before at the motel, but I have to ask one more time. Did you heal me?" I my expressions calm as I asked, but the question… I knew he could tell that was an important question to me. He was a smart kid. "I know you said you didn't know, and if you still don't then that's OK, but… I had to ask one more time."

"I don't know. I know that… that I did do something though." He admitted finally, setting the notebook down.

"Do you remember it well?"

"No. That was why I wasn't sure. I'm still not certain."

"Why…" I took a breath. "I was dying. I should've been dead. There were a lot of good reasons to let me die. So… Why do it? Why heal me or do whatever it was that you did?" Jack thought about that, doing his best to formulate the answer correctly in his head.

"Father… Castiel, I remember him." He explained. "He helped protect me. I remember he thought of you often. He… he loved you." I took in a small, sharp breath at that. "He missed you. He told mother that you were a good person, that you would protect us if he couldn't. Your face was a very clear image, in his mind."

"That doesn't explain why you healed me." I pointed out, still keeping my voice calm.

"I think it does." He replied, his face almost thoughtful as he said the words. "Your face was bright and shining and you were smiling, in his mind. You were someone he valued highly, and trusted very much. If I hadn't healed you… I don't think that my father would have wanted that." Those were nearly the same words he said that night, the night he healed me. Father would not want that.

I nodded, uncertain of what else to really do. "Thank you, then." I said. "If you hadn't done that… I would've bled out and died." I knew that for a fact.

"Why did you want to?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"You requested that I kill you. I didn't, but you asked me to. Why?"

"You wanted to die too." I pointed out, motioning to his shirt. "I could ask you the same question."

"I told you that answer already." He said. "I'm a… a bad thing. Dean hates me. Donatello thought I would be evil. You… You do not always seem to like me either. I am a… a monster." He had trouble forcing the word out, but he managed anyways. "And what Sam and Dean do is kill bad things, kill monsters." I took a deep breath at his words, feeling them sting at my heart. He wasn't even a week old, and… and he wanted to die. He thought something was so wrong with him that he tried to kill himself.

I couldn't help but remember when I felt similar – when I wondered whether I was a monster or something that could be good.

"I used to be a witch." I said, catching him by surprise. I knew he'd skimmed over the witch page in the notebook. "Yeah. Bona fide. I could do the force push thing, I could heal, I could light a fire and teleport and tell you exactly what every spell in each of these notebooks were for. At one point, I tried to summon God, and almost busted my way through to one of his safehouses."

"Almost?"

"I also almost died in the process." I explained. Jack's eyes widened at that part. "But, yeah… I used to be a witch. And I thought I was a monster too. For a long time, I thought that I wasn't worth a lot of things, and that I should've been dead."

"What changed?"

"I found something that made my power more useful than harmful." I replied. "I did good with what I could do, and learned to accept that that was true as well."

"Why aren't you like that anymore then?" He asked. "You sound as though you enjoyed being a witch."

"I did." I couldn't quite fight the small smile on my face. I really had enjoyed being able to do so much. I had been useful then. I'd been worth something, for once. "But, I had to give it up. There was a spell that I cast that was very, very powerful, and required a lot of sacrifice. My powers were a part of it."

"Is that why you wanted to die?" I took another sip of my tea, and Jack followed suit. This one was a big question to answer, but it was one that… that he deserved answers to.

"No, I…" I pursed my lips. "I loved Castiel very, very much. Whenever I pictured the future, I never saw one without him in it. I always thought that, even though I had become a witch, Cas would still outlive me. I thought that my life would always have him in it. I knew that if mine were to end he'd be able to go on without me. I knew he was stronger than me. And after everything I'd done to keep it that way," I remembered the different things I'd done to keep him and myself alive, because I couldn't live without him or without at least seeing him once more. Binding my life force to his, forgiving him, becoming a witch, doing everything I could to keep him and myself safe up to the point that we had to seal the rift, and I accepted my fate. I accepted that I wasn't coming out of it, and I was somewhat OK with that, because I still couldn't see a future without him. I couldn't see a life for me without him in it, and I firmly believed that he would go on and be alright without me in his. He'd been alive for millennia. I was just a blip in his timestream.

He could've made it without me. I wasn't always sure that I could without him.

"I just didn't think that this would be the outcome," I finally summed up. "I thought that I was dead, that I should've been the one dead, and he should've been alive."

"Oh." Jack muttered. "And you… You were alright with that, with… With dying?" I shrugged.

"I've done it before." I said. "Literally and a few fakes. I've come close a lot. I figured…" I shrugged. "I figured that I'd just come to a point where it was my time, and that… That was OK." I nodded. "It was for something good. I was OK with that. The Rift would've closed, Lucifer would've been stuck, Cas and Crowley and Dean and Sam and Kelly and you and pretty much the world would've been safe, and I figured that that was something I could be OK with dying for."

"You… you sacrificed your powers to close the… the thing I created, the thing that opened to another world?" I didn't want to answer that question, but he also deserved the truth. I nodded once, not quite meeting his eyes for a moment. "And you.. you were willing to sacrifice yourself and everything you had?"

"Yeah." I maintained eye contact this time with my answer.

"Even for people you didn't know?"

"Yeah."

"Even for… For me?" I looked in his eyes at that question, and didn't see the eyes of a young adult. I didn't see the eyes of an extremely powerful being. I didn't even see a resemblance to Lucifer.

I saw hope. The hope in a child's eyes, that's wide and uncertain but believing, like when you first tell a kid that the tooth fairy is real. They want it to be real, but at the same time the idea just seems incredulous. A fairy? That takes your teeth and gives you money? No way! A magic guy with a sleigh and reindeer giving presents, a bunny that leaves candy eggs, AND a fairy?

"Yeah." I nodded, keeping eye contact with him. "Even you." I could see the look in his eyes changing, from the hopeful disbelief to seeing the dollar bill under the pillow and seeing that the tooth fairy really did bring money in exchange for teeth.

I saw hope. Hope for good in the world, and excitement and belief that it existed.

"But…" I shook my head, cutting him off.

"I didn't care you were Lucifer's kid." I told him. "Big part of the issue for a lot of people, I know, but that wasn't my concern. I saw a mom that deserved a choice in her life, one who had made a choice and didn't need everything under the sun coming after her for it. And I saw a kid that had no clue, that didn't chose his parents, and that didn't deserve to be judged for his dad's actions." I offered Jack a half-smile. "I saw a mom and a kid."

Jack didn't say anything in response, just sat and thought on what I'd said. I finished my tea, got up from the couch, and walked over to ruffle his hair a little. "I'm gonna go get some shut-eye. Are you OK?"

"Kylie," he returned to that confused, uncertain hope. "Why do you care so much? Why did you do something nice for me? Why… Why don't you seem to hate me?"

"The people you considered family at first, you mom and Castiel and Lucifer, they're… they're gone." I said. "It's the same for me. Both my parents, and my brothers, they're gone. But Sam and Dean… They took me in, made me family, and now they're the only family I've got left. I've been through not having that family, and believing that you're all alone in the world." I patted him once, lightly, on the shoulder. "And I won't let anyone else go through that, not if I can help it." He looked up at me, hopeful and… pensive; still thinking heavily on what I'd said. "Good night, Jack." I said, smiling.

"Good night, Kylie." He replied, settling in to his chair. I could tell he was going to be there for a while, thinking.

"Feel free to leaf through the notebooks and ask more questions in the morning, if you want." The offer was an honest one that surprised me a little, but at the same time was one I was OK with. "And, uh… Don't go through all the hot chocolate. It's bad for you if you drink too much." When he said nothing, I walked away and towards my room. I stopped outside the door, though, unable to quite walk in.

Instead, I went on down the hallway more towards Castiel's room. It was just as it always had been, which was pretty barren to say the least. There was a picture of us on his nightstand, along with a book. Some clothes in a dresser that he didn't really wear anymore. The shampoo bottle he'd gotten was still in his shower, approximately half-used. His towel was still on the hook, even. The room looked like he was just way on a hunt; like it was waiting for him to come back.

I went back to the picture on the nightstand, and sat on his bed as I looked at it. I remembered this picture. We'd taken it after our first date. He brought it with him to the apartment. At some point, he must've gone back for it.

I smiled as I looked at the memory. I didn't quite look like the girl in the picture now, though, but she… She had everything, at that time. She was so lucky to have everything in the world, to her. A new family. A wonderful relationship. Hope.

That was the big one. She had hope, more than the woman she'd grown up to be would ever enjoy. The Kylie back then had so much hope for the world and for life; so much joy and determination and happiness and love in her heart. She believed in anything, believed that anything could be done, believed that the world would eventually become a better place is she just kept trying to do her part and help others. If that Kylie could look at me now…

Well, she'd probably call me useless too, if she saw where I'd come from and where I was now.

I put down the picture, not quite able to look at it anymore. It made me happy, yeah, but at the same time it was a hard thing to look at. _This must've been how Castiel felt when you hid._ The thought came unbidden, but I was certain it was true.

That just made me hate my choices even more.

I got back up and moved to the dresser, a little bit of bittersweet hope forming inside of me. When I opened it, I saw exactly what I was looking for.

One of his shirts. There were three, maybe four, but all I needed was one.

I took it out almost reverently, and looked at the article for a moment. He always wore the same thing, when he was an angel. It was easier for him, I guess. When you don't have to worry about human things, you don't really worry about having more clothes to wear. And when we were homeless, together… I remembered how odd it had been for him to change between two sets of clothing.

I clutched the shirt tightly to my chest, clenching my eyes shut as more and more memories flooded in. Happy ones. Sitting and talking, watching a movie, living together, eating together, Cas cooking, waking up next to him…

Little things, but enough to flood my mind and eyes.

"I miss you." I whispered, still clutching the shirt tightly.

I fell asleep in Castiel's room, on his bed, curled up in the smallest ball I could curl up in to with his shirt clenched tightly in my hands.


	10. The Student Becomes The Teacher

A week or so later, Dean was going to head out on a case. He was meeting Jody there. I asked if I could come with him so I could finally pick up the car. It would be nice to have an extra set of wheels around, and would make me able to come and go if I wanted to. It would be easier to get groceries too, if I needed to, or just…

I don't know why I wanted to be able to come and go, but it made me feel better to know that I could.

So Dean took me with him, and we met up with Jody in Nebraska. He let out a low whistle when he saw the Charger, glancing over from me to the car.

"This is the car you had?" He asked. I nodded.

"Rowena… She gave it to me." I said. He took another look at the car.

"You are never getting rid of this car." He decided. I rolled my eyes, and gave Jody a hug as Dean kept… I don't know what it was that he was doing besides looking at the car, but whatever it was I was certain the Impala would be a little jealous.

"How's Claire?" I asked the woman.

"She's doing good. Hard to hear the news of what happened, but she's holding up. How are you?" I shrugged.

"I'm making it by, I think." I said. "Just… pushing through, you know?"

"Well, if you ever want to talk with some girls about stuff…" She smiled, handing me a business card. "You've got Claire's number and now mine. Don't be a stranger, alright?"

"Thanks." I nodded, smiling a little as she handed me my keys. I hopped in, and gave the engine a little rev as I started it. Dean just stared, looking from my car to his. He walked over to his own, and rubbed the hood lovingly.

"You're better than her, baby. You're much better." I could hear him talk to his car as he looked over at mine one more time before turning to Jody. Another car pulled up at that point, and I took it as my cue to head out. It wasn't necessarily a long drive back, but it was a drive nonetheless.

The second I got back, though, I automatically felt my head hurt. "What the hell?" I asked, getting out of the car slowly. I waited for a few seconds outside, leaning against the frame of the car, until it all subsided. This headache was familiar, though. Jack's powers…

I ran in once it all clicked, bursting through the door. "Sam?!" I asked, urgency in my voice. "Jack?!"

"We're here!" Sam shouted, running towards me. I relaxed a little, and met the Hunter at the bottom of the stairs. "Hey, hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Are you?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Kylie?" Jack came from around the corner slowly, watching. He was there. He was fine. Everybody was fine. I relaxed more fully, acknowledging the scene in front of me. Everything was thing. There wasn't a threat.

"Hey, Jack." I waved over at him, looking back at Sam. "Don't worry about it. Just got worried for a second." I tapped my forehead with my index finger, and Sam seemed to understand. "What're you guys up to?"

"Not a whole lot," Sam said. "Just taking a break from practicing."

"Practicing?"

"Yeah." Sam took a glance back at Jack. "Considering what he's able to do, we've been trying to get a better handle on him being about to control his powers. I was about to run out and get some food for a break. You hungry?" I thought about this for a moment, and I could feel the smallest starts of an idea forming.

"What's on the menu?"

"Probably Chinese takeout."

"Cool." I glanced back over at Jack, thinking. That was when it all clicked, and I had an actual idea. "I'll text you what to get. See you in a bit." I moved past Sam, patting him on the shoulder as I walked towards Jack. "Come on. We're gonna go hang out for a few minutes." I looped an arm around the Nephilim, pulling him with me.

"O… OK!" Sam shouted after us. I kept pulling Jack along, waiting until I heard the door to the outside open and close once more before I stopped.

"What are we doing?" Jack asked. I stopped at the table, and saw a pencil on the table. Jack looked over at it too, and I could see frustration in his face.

"What were you doing?" I asked instead, looking over at him. His face paled for a moment.

"Sam was… trying to teach me." He said. "Trying to help me learn to control my… my powers." I nodded, looking over at the pencil again.

"Force push thing?" I asked.

"I… I guess."

"And he didn't wait for me to get back." I muttered, shaking my head. "Ouch. That hurts."

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Jack asked immediately. I shook my head.

"No, just the headache thing." I told him. "That was why I was worried. I was afraid that something was attacking you guys."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you tend to defend yourself well in case of an emergency." I replied. "I could feel your energy outside. It was… It was massive and…" I stopped, realizing what I was saying before I laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just… Just…" I laughed again. "When I was first learning, I did the same thing." I realized how quickly Crowley must've hauled ass inside once he felt that power surge, and remembered how fast he actually did arrive as I tried to put out the curtains.

 _"GOD-FUCKING-DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!" I'd screeched, letting out a low hiss of pain. I made my way to the small bathroom then, so I could run cool water over my hand. The curtains had bit the ashes, I'd reeled in the flames, and the result was burning my hand badly, again._

 _"You rang?" Crowley appeared quickly after that, walking in from the doorway in the kitchen. At that time he'd been coming and going while I practiced, searching for a hand of God to defeat Amara with. This time, though, what he brought back were my things. "What did you set on fire this time?"_

 _"Curtains finally bit the ashes."_

 _"I liked those curtains."_

 _"Go purchase new ones." Strangely enough, I could remember how those words tasted to say. They were bitter. I was bitter. Nothing I had been doing had been achieving the goal I was aiming towards. I turned off the water at that point, and took a moment to examine the burns on my hand. At that point… I had a lot of burn marks and scars on my body from doing this. Shortly afterwards I'd healed myself, and later on saw that all the burns that my body had accumulated were gone, but at that moment… I was just bitter and frustrated._

 _"Did you burn yourself again?"_

 _"My hand."_

 _"Killing the flames?"_

 _"Yep."_

 _"If you can do it once without burning yourself you can do it again."_

 _"No shit, Sherlock."_

 _"I felt a tremendous amount of power flowing a little bit ago, while I was coming back to the cabin. I'm guessing you were the source."_

I hadn't realized how quickly he'd appeared after that. I'd burned myself plenty of times before, but Crowley usually didn't just appear right afterwards. Usually he just came in, saw the aftermath, and put me to work on doing what I could to clean up the mess I made. Sometimes he helped me bandage myself up, but I was more often than not left to my own devices around that time. I wasn't worth his time if I couldn't manage "such a simple spell." His words, not mine.

He must've thought that I'd been in danger, be it from my own attempts or an outside intruder. It must've been like what I felt earlier. For a moment, I wondered how much he really cared about me back then. Must've been enough to make sure I didn't destroy myself.

"You gave others headaches with your power?" Jack asked. I shook my head, still smiling.

"No, not… not quite. At least, I don't think so." I looked over at him. "But the power surge… That was a thing."

"What happened when… when your power surge occurred?"

"I lit the curtains on fire." I explained, holding up my hand for reference. "And burned the hell out of my hand after I reigned it in."

"Your hand looks fine, now." He pointed out.

"Yeah, I… I healed it afterwards. Didn't exactly mean to, but I did."

"Oh…" He looked at my hand for a moment before I saw an idea build in his eyes. "Can you… Can you teach me?" He asked.

"Yeah." I didn't even think before I said that, and had to stop myself afterwards to actually think of what I just said. That had been my idea, yes, but at the same time… I couldn't do any of that anymore. I didn't even remember exactly what I did to make it feel as though I was actually using it, and in all honesty… I'd never had complete control of the angelic grace inside of me in the first place. I just kind of used it, more or less, without knowledge. And now…

Now I had nothing. When Crowley taught me, he at least knew what he was doing and could do most of it himself. But I… I couldn't I couldn't light a fucking candle on fire if I wanted to.

"I might not be the best teacher, though." I told him quickly, realizing the holes in my original plan. "I… I can't do any of this. I used to, yeah, but now… After everything…" I raised that same hand, and on reflex tried to summon a flame to my palm.

Nothing happened, like how nothing happened the last… I didn't even know how many times I tried to summon something as simple as a flame back to my fingers.

"I gave up what made me magic to close the Rift." I stated simply, lowering my hand back down. "So I… I can't do it anymore. I can't do what you can do."

"Were you… Were you able to before, though?" He asked. I nodded.

"Not everything you can do, but the teleporting stuff? The force push? The healing and the self-preservation and a few other things?" I nodded again. "Yeah, I used to be able to."

"Then… Then will you help me?" He requested again. "Please?"

"I'll do my best." I promised.

"Thank you." He smiled brightly, and it occurred to me just how few times I actually HAD seen him smile. Granted, he was technically only a few days old, but still… I didn't even think Sam and Dean have seen this kid smile.

"No worries." I glanced over at that pencil again. "How long have you been trying to do this?"

"Since you left with Dean." He replied. I widened my eyes.

"OK, first you get a nice, lengthy break. Then we'll start." I felt a little better as I made those promises to him. I didn't know if I could teach him, I had no clue, but I could at least try. It would… It would make me useful then. It would give me a better purpose, maybe even offer me a chance to get my own powers back.

Either way, I would actually be doing something useful, and that was better than nothing.


	11. Magic is Hard

After we ate, I turned Sam to his computer. "But… I…" I shook my head, continuing to push him towards the device.

"I got this." I promised. "You had your turn, now it's mine. I can do this."

"But your head," I shook my head more as he tried to argue.

"I'll figure it out." I assured him. "And look, you've got a camera in the room, right? Just watch us on the cams. If something looks really bad, do whatever, but for now I think I've got him." Sam still looked worried, but I he was willing to work with me. That was all I needed.

So he took a seat in front of his computer, and I dragged Jack off to a different room. Sam wanted to do force push, we'd do force push, but I was going to do what I could to help.

I sat next to Jack, and he glared at the pencil on the table. I picked it up, thinking for a moment, and proceeded to toss it somewhere behind me. "What… Why did you do that?" Jack asked, staring at the object behind me in confusion.

"You seem to not like it." I answered. "I figured we'd shake things up, try and do something different."

"We're not focusing on moving objects?" He asked. I shook my head.

"No, we're still doing that." I said. "It's an extremely useful talent that will probably help you tap in to your more angelic powers easier. We're just not going to use a pencil for it."

"We're… We're not?"

"Nope." I offered him a smile at that. "We're going to use your intent."

"My intent?"

"Yeah."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Well, what do you want?" I asked.

"I…" He didn't look like he knew the answer to that question. "What do you mean by that?"

"What do you want?" I repeated. "Right now, in this moment, what is the first thing you can think of that you want?"

"I wish to do this correctly." He replied.

"That's good," I encouraged. "Great start. Make it more specific."

"How so?"

"How do you want to accomplish the task set before you in a way that you perceive as correct?"

"Huh?" I thought for a moment at that, and found an easier way to phrase it.

"What's the best way to do this correctly?"

"By moving an object."

"Why do you want to move the object?"

"Because Sam wants me to." I shook my head at that answer.

"The answer can't be because somebody else wants you to." I explained. "It has to be because you want to do it."

"I do!"

"I know you do," I agreed. "But your main reason is because you want to make Sam happy. What about doing this makes you happy?"

"Knowing that accomplishing the task will make you and Sam and… and Dean like me." I paused for a moment, thinking about that answer.

"Do you," I paused again, trying to figure out how to word this correctly. "Do you think I like you less because you don't know how to control your powers yet?"

"It seems like an answer that makes sense." He pointed out. "And one that has been a common response with the brothers."

"Yeah, well… I'm not them." I said. "And I've been in your shoes, kind of."

"How did you do this, the first time?"

"With control or without control?" I asked, thinking that over.

"You… You could do all of this without controlling it?" I nodded at that question.

"Oh yeah, the first time I did all of this, and that was before I got trained… I was a bit of a train wreck." I winced, remembering that time. It had been a dark one. I remembered how I described it, but the exact feelings themselves… I couldn't quite comprehend them. "It was like… Like a piece of me could grab something that wasn't even within my grasp. I was scared then, so I kinda just threw the person." I decided it would be better not to name Dean in this, much less Cas for the second time. I didn't hold any of those events against them anymore, anyways. It wasn't worth naming them. "It was kind of like how you react now. You do great when you're scared or when someone is hurt, but outside of that the need isn't as prevalent."

"You threw a person?" He seemed fixated on that fact, staring at me strangely. I couldn't blame him for that one. I was a small girl. I looked a little bit like a wire. The idea of me physically throwing a person in general could easily seem absurd.

"Once, yeah." I pursed my lips. When he still looked disbelieving, I wiggled my fingers in front of him. "Magic."

"Oh! Right!" He looked like he understood then. "So… you could do the… force push?" He looked to me for assurance that he had the right term. I nodded. "The force push on a person?"

"Theoretically, you can do it on anything and anyone." I replied. "Just as long as you have the power for it, which I'm pretty certain you do."

"Alright, then. So when you first did this, without control… You were in danger?"

"Yep."

"And when you did have control… how did you accomplish that?"

"I… ehm…" I remembered the chess piece in the ceiling again, and the anger leading up to it. Probably not the best role model moment there. "That's a bit of a long story, but the moral of it is that in that moment, I wanted to accomplish the force push because I wanted to, not because I felt anybody else wanting me to. In that moment… I was doing it for me."

"Will you tell me the story?" He asked hopefully.

"Maybe later," I assured him. "Not my proudest moment there. I mean, it was pretty awesome to finally feel in control. But it also wasn't quite the best way to accomplish it and I don't want to put any ideas in your head."

"Alright." He nodded. "So… if I'm not going to move the pencil what am I going to move?"

"Hmmm…" He had a valid point there. I felt my face blanch slightly as I thought, realizing he had an extremely valid point. "OK, fine, we'll stick with the pencil." I got up to pick up the object, and set it back down on the table in front of us. "I want you to move it not because I want you to, but because you want to." For reference, I rolled it down the table on my own a little bit before setting it down again in front of Jack. "Like that."

"Alright." He agreed. I offered him a single nod, and waited to see what he would do.

He poked the pencil, and it rolled down the table a little bit.

"With your mind, Jack." I reminded him politely. He nodded himself.

"You said that you felt like you… you grabbed the person whenever you did it, right?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"I wanted to do that myself." He stated. "That way I knew what I would be doing in my head." I couldn't help but agree with that.

"Smart." I commented. "Give it a go." He put the pencil back in its original position, and got to work.

However, I could feel that he wasn't particularly doing anything. I knew my head would be in pain if he was. I gave it about two or three hours before I looked over at him.

"How come you're not trying?" I asked bluntly.

"I am." He argued.

"No you're not." I stated, tapping my head. "Because if you were I'd feel it."

"I'm…" He thought for a moment. "I'm trying to try." He revised.

"Relax with it." I wasn't quite certain what else to suggest other than that. "Don't try to force what you're doing." I thought for a second. "Here, keep trying. I'll grab you some hot chocolate."

"Alright." I got up from my seat, taking a moment to duck in and check on Sam.

"Hey man, you need anything from the kitchen?"

"Can you grab me a beer?"

"Sure."

"How's Jack doing?"

"He's doing his best."

"Still no progress?"

"It's not an easy thing to learn, Sam." I raised an eyebrow at him as I pointed this out. "I didn't have full control over any of this for over a year. It literally took a demon, a Reaper, and another witch teaching me to get me where I was."

"I know, I know," he agreed. "I just… I wish there was a way to help him along faster."

"He's doing his best." I repeated, offering him a hard stare. "And I'm proud of him for that. This will just take time."

"Do you know how much?"

"This isn't a 12-step program, Sam. It's… It's different for each person, and because of that it takes different amounts of time. It's like…." I thought for a moment, struggling to find the words. "It's like learning a language you know you know, but you don't know how to make work in terms of going from your brain to your mouth. It's a part of you, a natural part, but at the same time it's a part that you can't quite fully control because it takes a weird amount of focus and relaxation." I shrugged. "Is this making any sense?" From the look on his face, it wasn't. I let out a sigh, doing my best to not get frustrated. "Look, it's just a lengthy process. I'm doing what I can. Jack is doing his absolute best. It's just a matter of getting everything functioning together, if that makes sense. I'm going to go and get you that beer." I took a deep breath, refusing to be annoyed as I walked in to the kitchen. I started making some hot chocolate and some hot tea, waiting until they were all fully brewed until I got Sam's beer.

The second I stepped out of the kitchen I felt a wave of nausea and head pain. I kneeled down, and set everything in front of me as gently as I could before I grasped my head. Jack was doing something. Hopefully whatever he was doing was working.

It stopped after a few minutes, but I heard nothing. No sounds of happiness and success, much less worry or failure. "Jack?" I asked tentatively. A few seconds later, I could hear Sam's worried exclamation of the Nephilim's name. "Shit!" I hissed, leaving everything where it was.

I ran in to the room, and saw Sam standing in front of a more shadowed area in the room. I looked around him and saw Jack curled up in the space, holding the pencil in his hand. I knelt beside him automatically to see if he was alright.

"I'm fine." He muttered. "I moved the pencil." He held it up to me for reference.

"Did you…" I stopped my question in its tracks. From the look on his face, he hadn't quite done what he was trying to do. "It's OK," I assured him. "You did a good job. Do you wanna give it another go?"

"No." He stated the word firmly, almost… petulantly?

"Okay, look," Sam tried. "I know this isn't exactly fun…" Before he could continue though, Jack cut him off.

"No, it's the opposite of fun. It's difficult and all it does is hurt people." He glanced over at me as he spoke.

"Okay, but why is it so hard?" Sam asked. "I've seen you throw people across the room. I've been thrown across the room by you. I've seen you open a gate to hell, and now nothing? It doesn't make any sense."

"It makes sense," Jack said slowly. "If I'm evil."

"What?" I asked. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Jack, you… You're not evil."

"Just go." His request sounded almost defeated. "Please."

"No, Jack." I shook my head at those words. I glanced up at Sam, motioning for him to give the two of us some space. "Why do you think you're evil? I don't think you're evil. I think you're good."

"Yeah well, Dean sees it." I pursed my lips at those words. "That's why he says… he said he'd kill me."

"He what?!" Sam exclaimed. Jack just kept talking.

"And maybe he should. Mom said I could be good, that I had the choice to be good, that it was up to me. But she's dead, because of me. I've only been on earth for a few days and I've already hurt people. I hurt you every time I do anything." He motioned to me at that point. "I've already done bad things, and no matter how hard I try I can't… I can't do the one good, stupid thing you want me to. So I must be evil, like… like Lucifer."

"Jack, listen." Sam spoke this time, earning my attention. "Asmodeus tricking you, Dean, none of that is your fault. I think that after everything that's happened you're probably scared to use your power, and the two of us pressuring you certainly isn't helping."

"Really?" Jack asked.

"Really." Sam nodded with that. "What do you say we call it a day?" He glanced over at me with those words, and I nodded too. He worked hard. He deserved some time. "Until I figure out a better way. How does that sound?"

"It sounds… good." Jack sounded a little happier with that.

"Good. Come on." Sam offered Jack a hand, and he took it willingly.

"Sam, why are you being so nice to me?" Jack asked. I looked over at Sam, and left it at that as I left the room. I walked over to where I'd set everything down. The tea and hot chocolate had definitely cooled by now, and the beer had warmed. I still picked it all up gingerly. When I came back in Jack was sitting at the desk, looking a little better.

"Here," I handed him the mug of hot chocolate. "I.. Uh… Sorry it's not warm." I shrugged, not quite certain what to do about it. It's not like I could just warm it up with magic.

"Thank you." He took it willingly, and sipped at it with a smile. The smile faded after a moment as he looked at the drink though. "It tastes different." He commented.

"Yeah, that's because it's not as warm." I took a sip of my own and grimaced, but proceeded to do drink the entire thing anyways. "I'll make you some more, if you'd like."

"No thank you." He took another sip, and kept drinking as I had. I shook my head and politely took the cup from him.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make you some more." I turned around to go back to the kitchen, but was stopped by Jack's voice.

"Did you… Did you ever ask yourself if you were supposed to be evil?" I turned back to him at that, feeling my shoulders sag a little as I did. All I'd thought at one point was that question; whether I was good or not.

Whether I deserved a bullet or not.

"Yeah." I muttered.

"How did you find out the answer?"

"I… I'm not certain." I was honest about that. I really didn't know. I'd tried a lot, but… The answer never really seemed clear. Do good things, but they have bad results. Do stereotypically bad things for moderate to still bad results. It had all just become one big mess. "I don't think it's about being good or bad, because the world is a little bit of both in that sense. Everyone is a little bit of both. I think it's just about being you, and making what you want out of that."

"Are you saying I can't be good?"

"No. I'm saying you're already good." I explained. "You're already good, and I'm already bad. It's a part of us that we're born with no matter what. What defines you, though, is the choices you make from there."

"And how do I make the good choices?"

"You don't know." I felt bittersweet admitting that, but at the same time the words felt right. "You never know if you're making the right choices, not fully. You just… You do the best you can with it, and hope it all works out."

"Did it work for you?"

"Not all the time."

"Then how did you know?"

"I didn't." I shrugged. "Not… not until it was too late for me to fix it. You just kind of have to do your best, more or less."

"OK." He nodded. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, uncertain as to whether or not he would ask more questions. "Thank you for allowing me to read your notebooks, by the way. I found them… Interesting. At least when I could read them. There are parts however that I would like for you to help me translate, if that's alright."

"Yeah, I can do that." I thought for a moment. There were more at the safehouse, lots more. At some point I would probably need to go get those. "I have more stashed away in a good place. After I get them back you can leaf through those too."

"What are they on?" He asked. I shrugged. I hadn't really looked through them. "I think I would like that, then. Thank you."

"No worries. You wanna help?"

"I can do that." He felt a bit better as he spoke, something that made me feel better too. I took Jack with me back outside, and together we grabbed everything I had taken. I set them down back in the room we'd talked in, with the comfier couches, and Jack went to retrieve the others from his room. It was odd, looking over everything without understanding it. It made me feel… More useless, again.

But at least I could translate them for others to try and make sense of. Maybe somebody else, like Jack or someone, could make more use of them now.

"Can you teach me how to read and write this?" He asked. I looked up from my transcriptions, thinking on that. Once he said those words, I realized that there had been one other person that could read this, in the end. Crowley could. He… He hadn't known it when he'd first looked at my work, but in the end he could read the page I wrote. I hadn't even realized that until now.

He'd actually taken the time, on his own, to learn how to read my stuff.

"I…" If Crowley could learn it on his own, for whatever reasons he'd had, then I could teach Jack. "Yeah, sure. I'll teach you later."

"OK." With that I continued working on the transcriptions, writing in the margins what it all meant. As I worked I smiled a little. If I'd wanted to, I could've made a killing making secret messages. I glanced over at Jack as I wrote, and saw him thoroughly engrossed in the pages of notes I'd written.

"Kylie?" He glanced up at me, looking confused.

"Yeah?"

"Why is this page labelled ice?" He asked, flipping the notebook to me. That was when I saw he was looking at the original notebook again, and I saw the few pages I had written purposefully in English. Dean's number. Sam's number. Pray to Castiel.

"It means in case of emergency." I explained. "Like, when I first started I wanted to make sure I knew who to call in case I was in a lot of trouble, or a number for someone else to contact in case I couldn't."

"And… my father…" I figured he would come to this. "Did praying to him help?"

"Sometimes."

"Will it now?" I shook my head slowly at his question.

"No, it won't." I said. "The dead can't hear prayers."

We worked at the notebooks together in mostly silence after that, with only Jack's questions interrupting the lack of noise. They were little questions, like what I meant at a certain place once he'd translated it or if I knew why I had chosen a specific ingredient for a set spell. I couldn't answer most of his why questions, but I could do easier explanations. ("Oh, there? Burn, baby, burn? That means that you have to light the entire thing on fire afterwards." "Oh. Why would you burn a baby?" "It's a figure of speech, Jack. Just a little joke to myself.")

A few hours later, we heard Dean get back. By that point I'd almost finished transcribing the majority of my notes, and was just more or less beat and tired. "Hey, you want anything?" I asked Jack. "I'll cook, like…" I thought about what was in the fridge. Not a lot of options. "Something." I summed up.

"Sure." He nodded. "May I help?"

"Yeah, why not?" I shrugged a little at that. We set down what we had been working on, and Jack started walking towards the kitchen. "Hey, hold up. Let's see if the brothers have any requests. We probably need to make a run anyways, and bribing them with home-cooked food gets us better food in general."

"And we want that?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because it's us getting a break from the Bunker and because I know exactly what is in our fridge." He thought on that for a moment before nodding.

"That sounds like a good reason." He acknowledged. I took a moment to organize everything fully, and we set off towards where Sam and Dean were.

As we got closer, we could hear them talking. "I told him the truth." Dean's voice, sounding almost indignant. "I told Kylie too. See, you think you can use this freak, but I know how this end; and it ends bad." I stopped, as did Jack. The second he heard those words he looked… Pained.

"Maybe we should come back later," I whispered to him, grabbing his arm lightly. I did my best to pull him away, but Jack didn't move. He stayed around the corner, listening to Dean and Sam's every word. "Jack, come on. This isn't what you need to hear."

"You deserved to be saved, he doesn't!" Dean's voice again, almost shouting.

"Yes he does Dean, of course he does! It was the same thing with Kylie and you were saying these same words then, but look at it now. She's fine! She's good! Hell, she's even human! And even more so, she's working with him. She's trying to help Jack. Why can't he be saved too?"

"Kylie is broken, and you know it!" I stopped trying to pull him back, then. At that point, I froze just as much. "I'm glad she's human now, I can't tell you how happy I am that she is, but we both know that her head is a complete wreck. Jack isn't her, and the only reason she's doing what she's doing to "help" him is because she's trying to find anything to hold on to, just like you are." A small pause. I bit my tongue, feeling angry at his words. "Look, I know you think that you can use Jack as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that's fine, Kylie's doing the same thing to get Cas back, but don't act like you care about the kid because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you all want to pretend, that's fine! But me?"

"Jack, we should leave." I finally found my voice again, trying to pull him back. He still didn't move though, and he had to hear those next words.

"I can hardly look at the kid! Because when I do all I see is everybody we've lost, and all the pain he's caused!"

"Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack!"

"And what about Cas?" I breathed in sharply when I heard his name.

"What about Cas?"

"He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, 'paradise on earth' and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! It almost got Kylie dead with him! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can't!"

"Jack, please," I begged quietly. "Let's go. Let's just leave it be, OK? Dean is just… Just angry. He doesn't mean what he's saying."

"Castiel." Jack whispered the name with certainty, and for a moment all I could feel was pain in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, removing my hand from Jack to grasp at my head.

"Jack," I grunted his name, removing my hand from my head to clench it in a tight fist. The second I said his name, the pain disappeared. I looked up to see Jack, looking down on me in fear and distress. "It's OK, Jack." I shook my head a little, clearing the last vestiges of the pain. "It… It's gonna be OK."

"You… did you lie to me?"

"No." I knew the word was true when I said it, but from the look in Jack's eyes… He didn't believe me.

"Are you just using me? Like Sam is?"

"Jack, I promise you I'm not." I repeated. "I made a promise to your mother, and to Castiel. I promised I would keep you safe, that I would protect you and be there. I'm just trying to follow through on that."

"You don't care about me, though." He looked more and more frightened and disheartened as he spoke. "You don't."

"Jack, I do care. I'm just doing what I can to stay afloat too right now. I'm sorry if you feel like I used you to do that, I didn't mean to. I'm just… I'm just doing what I can." I heard footsteps coming towards us as we spoke.

"Kylie?" Dean's voice, loud and clear. "Jack?" Jack offered me one more distraught look before walking towards his room. I leaned against the wall, not quite able to answer Dean's call just yet. "Kylie? Jack? Anyone home?" He was about to round the corner. I had to speak or else he'd wonder why I was there.

"Hey." I walked towards rounding the corner myself, and almost ran right in to Dean. "Hey, how was the thing with the psychic and Jody?"

"Good, it went pretty good." He nodded as he spoke. "How was your day here with Lucifer Junior?"

"Fine." I said. "It was fine. Just worked on some stuff, I've been transcribing my notebooks to see what I can use them for."

"Any luck?"

"Umm… No." I shook my head. "I… I can't use them."

"Ah." He thought for a moment before clapping me on the shoulder. "Well… That's alright. We don't need them anyways. I think you're doing great as you are." He smiled at me. "Keep sticking to the plan. You're doing good." After a moment, he looked around. "Hey, do you know where Jack is?"

"I… I think he's in his room." I said.

"Awesome. Thanks." He strode off towards the direction of the kitchen, pausing after a few steps. "Hey, do we have anything to eat?"

"Some leftover Chinese."

"You hungry?" He turned to look over at me, raising an eyebrow. "I know Sam doesn't ever get the Chinese I like, and honestly burgers sound good right now."

"No." I shook my head. "I… I'm not hungry. You should ask Jack if he is, though." Dean took another glance in the direction of the kitchen at those words.

"Eh, I'll live with Sam's leftovers." He walked back towards the area, and I just… Just stood where I was, uncertain of exactly what I wanted to do. I knew, though, that no choice I made would be one I liked.

So I went back to Castiel's room once more, and curled up on his bed. I reached in to my pocket, and felt the ice-cold rock that I kept there.

I took it out, and put it on the bedside table. I knew he was dead. I knew I couldn't change that. Holding on to it just… Just make it easier for me to loathe the life that fate had handed to me.

Then again, everything I did made it easier. Jack had asked a good question – when did I realize I was good? The thing was, though, that I had tried and tried and tried to come to that decision so much and yet… Every choice I made kept ending in death and mistake and hatred of either what I'd done or what had happened as a result of it. There was no true feeling of good in the work that I'd done, not that I could see.

Maybe I'd just been bad the whole time. Maybe I'd never had a chance to be good.

I held Castiel's shirt tightly against my body, squeezing my eyes shut. I wasn't crying this time, though. I was out of tears.

I was just… Too hollow and empty inside to cry anymore.


	12. Trial and Error

_"I love you." Castiel's voice, right beside me. I looked over at him, and saw how happy he was. We were both curled up in… Our bed. The bed we shared when we were living in an apartment together. I rolled my eyes at him, looking up at his content and happy face._

 _"I think you just love the idea of me." I joked. "I think that you'll get tired of me one day, when you remember how good you have it as an all-powerful, immortal celestial being graced with the power of God."_

 _"That's not true." He didn't get that I was joking. He furrowed his brows, his expression changing to one of unhappiness. "I love you, Kylie."_

 _"Cas, I'm joking." I promised. "I'm just messing with you, I promise."_

 _"You don't normally jest like this." His eyes narrowed a little as he examined my face. "Something is bothering you. What is it?"_

 _"Nothing is bothering me." That part was a lie. I'd actually been asking questions about my mortality in comparison to his immortality, but I'd been pushing them down. They just… they weren't fun questions to look at._

 _"You lie, admittedly, extremely well." Castiel stated, kissing my forehead lightly. "But that doesn't mean I still cannot see when you lie. I have learned to see your tells as you have mine."_

 _"Oh really?" I asked. "Name one tell that I apparently have when I lie."_

 _"Your voice raises in pitch by a small, yet audible amount." He stated. I pursed my lips, thinking._

 _"No it doesn't." I tried, deepening my voice as much as possible. Castiel didn't smile though, just kept waiting. "Fine." I looked away, laying my head on his chest. "I… I'm wondering why you chose me."_

 _"What?" He sat up straight then, maneuvering my shoulders gently so that I was facing him. I shrugged._

 _"Yeah." I muttered. "I… I don't quite get why you're still here with me, living with me, when you are quite literally a celestial being. You… You could live forever, do so much good, and yet…" I was blabbering, rolling on without any specific train of thought. I needed to focus on what I was saying. "You're immortal and you're supposed to be some sort of definition of perfection and yet for some reason you're choosing to live with a human. You're choosing to be here, when you could be anywhere else. So I guess I just… I'm grateful, I'm happy that you're here and that we're together, but at the same time…" I found it hard to meet his gaze. "I just don't get why you're here."_

 _"Kylie," his grip loosened on my shoulders as his arms dropped. "How could you ask that?" He looked hurt as he spoke. "You know I love you. You know what you mean to me. You… Kylie, I have never once met a human that I cared for as much as I care for you. I have never found a human that I could live without as much as you. I have never, in all my millennia of being, wished to stretch out time like I do now." He shook his head. "Kylie, I am here because I cannot conceive of a reason to not be. I cannot imagine a world without you in it beside me. I will never be the same angel that I was before I met you, and I am glad that I will not. The angel I used to be… He didn't care. He would have looked at you and thought exactly as you do now, that it made no sense to be with a human. That angel didn't care for anything but the singular mission set before them. That angel…" He shook his head. "I would rather be a man, and be with you, than ever go back to the angel I was before I met you." As he spoke, I felt as though I could see exactly what he was thinking, and the honesty in his words. "I love you, Kylie. I never felt this emotion until I met you. Do you understand that?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"And do you understand that, now that I have known you, my life will no longer be the same without you in it?" I didn't answer automatically that time, but I understood. I felt the same way about Cas._

 _"Yes." I replied._

 _"You understand that I love you." He stated. "And you're done questioning that?"_

 _"Yes." I agreed. "I'm sorry. I just… I get self-conscious." I admitted quietly._

 _"Oh my DAD will you please shut up?!" A new voice, one I didn't know. I looked over to the doorframe and saw… Lucifer. Leaning in it, arms crossed, looking extremely bored and exasperated. "Humans. I swear, you're so… So whiny. So needy. So annoying!" He unglued himself from the doorframe, sauntering towards us. "I mean COME ON. Why do you need affirmation? Are you just that starved for attention?" I looked over at Cas, terrified out of my mind, and saw… saw that he didn't care Lucifer was in our damned bedroom._

 _"Cas?" I asked, scooting backwards and closer to him._

 _"Come on, Cas." Lucifer crooned, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Tell her I'm wrong. I know you're not thinking it, but I also know you just wanna tell her that so she doesn't have that kicked puppy look on her face." I looked back over at Cas and saw… Nothing. No anger. No fear. Just… Calm. Relaxation._

 _"Well," another Castiel appeared, in the corner of the room. This one… he walked different, though. "I'd agree with you, but I'm just another version of you," the other Castiel pointed at Lucifer. "That looks like you." He pointed at Cas. I backed as far as I could in to the bedframe, gripping Cas' arm tightly._

 _"This is a dream." I muttered. "This… It has to be a dream."_

 _"Oh look, the ape can think after all!" The first Lucifer crowed._

 _"Isn't it a wonder?" The other Castiel added._

 _"She tends to think quite frequently." My Cas agreed. "Her brain doesn't seem to stop doing that."_

 _"She does think a lot." Lucifer agreed. "It's kind of annoying."_

 _"Especially when she starts running her mouth." Other Castiel._

 _"It can be a bit much." My Castiel. The other two scooted closer to us, Lucifer on the other side of me and the other Castiel on the side of Cas._

 _"The only problem here is," Lucifer added, looping an arm around me tightly. "That you're not dreaming. We're here, we're evil, and we're staying."_

 _"Buckle up, bunk buddies!" The other Castiel cheered. "We've got a whole life of this ahead of us!" Lucifer's arm turned to a choke around my neck. I clawed at Cas' arm, trying to choke out a cry for his help. Instead I got a pair of eyes, his and the other one's… Just watching as Lucifer choked the life out of me._

 _I could've sworn I even saw both Castiels smile._

I woke up, sweating and panting and clawing at my own neck. I could breathe. I could breathe. Nobody was choking me. I was… I was alive.

Castiel wasn't, but I was.

I did my best to calm my breathing. I needed a shower. I smelled like sweat and fear. But that dream… I couldn't get it out of my head. It started out as a friendly memory and ended in my worst nightmare. Two Lucifers… And Cas not even caring that they were there…

"It was just a dream." I muttered. "Just a dream." Just one dream out of many, one nightmare out of a series that had occurred ever since Castiel died. Castiel was always there. Lucifer was always there. I was always there. Sometimes I had to watch Castiel die again, other times I didn't.

The dreams were never the same, though. They were always different, save for the repeating cast, and they always got me.

Then again, when they started I tended to wish they were real. They usually started happy. They just turned to shit as they went.

I took a look at the clock. It was 4-whatever in the morning. Sam wouldn't be up for another 2 hours, Dean at least another 4 at the earliest, and Jack… He tended to rise in between the two, quiet and watchful.

He'd stopped talking to us as much since hearing what Dean said. Sam had set him up with some Netflix and the kid… He'd become a little withdrawn.

I wasn't much better, in all honesty. I couldn't get these thoughts out of my head, ones that told me I was useless and broken and never did any good. _But at least you're not a monster anymore. You should've died when you were, but you're not, so now look at you. Human or thing, useless or evil, you never can make a single correct choice._

I shook my head, trying to chase the thought away. It still lingered, though, in the back of my mind. _Useless. Worthless. Evil. Destroyer._

 _You have to create to destroy._

 _But you destroy more than you create._

"Shut up." I muttered, getting up. Between my own mind hating me or nightmares about the man I loved, I would rather go with the self-hate. At least then, I have a better understanding of what's real and what's fake.

At least then, I could control what I saw.

So I got up, and went to take a shower. I went about my morning routine like normal, just at 4am. Get dressed, hair back, avoid the mirror, make breakfast, hit the books, and see…

Hell, I wasn't even certain what I was researching. I was trying to go through the Book of the Damned, but I didn't even understand how any of those spells worked anymore. I'd been rooting through everything involving spells, to see what clicked, but nothing did.

I could follow the steps, but it was just following steps. It wasn't comprehending how or why any of it worked, it was just… just blindly following what I assumed was correct based off of what I was being told.

Since Sam had set Jack up with Netflix, the young Nephilim had been spending more time acquainting himself with pop culture versus doing anything else. He'd been kind enough to leave my notebooks in the same spot we'd been going over them, though. I don't quite know why, but it felt good to see them there instead of holed up in his room or in the trash, where I'd been planning on putting them.

Maybe I was just holding on to things that were useless.

 _Like yourself._

I let out a sigh, pulling up my inventory list on the laptop. Spellbooks. I needed some spellbooks. I'd labelled some later on as simple to complex, while I'd been a witch. I was still working through the simple ones, taking notes in a new notebook on things that I was certain I had KNOWN before, but just… Just couldn't reach at. Different spells that were achieving similar means and, in turn, had similar ingredients. Possible reasons as to why those ingredients were repetitive, backed up with whatever info I could find on the lore. I was going back to square one, back to so many things I'd known instinctively but now…

Now I had to take time, research, and figure it out manually.

There were three types of witches, that I knew. Ones that got their power from demons, ones that were natural-born, and ones that were chosen and taught by covens.

Being taught all of this must make it a little easier, but still… This felt worse than studying for my college exams had been.

I had a small wall of books around me after about an hour, going back and forth between lore and spells to double and triple check my ideas on ingredients, seeing if there were any discrepancies in their usage in other spells. I'd done a lot of crossing off and re-writing ideas already, but I was able to come to at least a few conclusions.

Not enough to figure out why they worked in the spell, or why they were used over another ingredient, but enough to at least guess why some of them were used in general. When I cross-referenced the ingredients with spells I'd done, though…

It was like taking all my notes and throwing them out the window. What I'd done had worked, but at the same time I couldn't tell if I was swapping out for more powerful items or what.

I rubbed my temples, hearing Sam's footsteps. "Hey."

"Hey." I muttered.

"You're up early."

"Trying to make sense of all of this takes time and…" I sighed. "I don't know. It's something. I have to do something with it, right?"

"No, I think you're doing good." Sam nodded assuredly at me. "I think what you're trying to do is amazing. And who knows what you'll be able to do with it!"

"I sure don't." I admitted. "I don't even get why anything I did worked, in comparison to what's in these books. It makes my head hurt to go through it all." Sam looked concerned at that point, and I shook my head. "Not like a Jack Attack headache, just… College exam headache." I knew he would understand that one.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Tell me how in the hell any of this works?" I tried. He shook his head, but his brow was furrowed. He was thinking about something. "What? What've you got?"

"Nothing." He said quickly. "I doubt it's anything."

"So you should be able to tell me then." I replied. When he still held his tongue, I pressed further. "Come on, Sam. I'm drowning in this here. I'm trying and trying and trying to figure it all out, but it's like trying to go from German to Arabic when I don't speak either." I put my hands down, feeling defeated. "I just… I don't even know what in the hell I'm doing. I know what I'm trying to do, but I don't think it'll work. So if you've got anything, please… Just tell me."

"Just something I remembered." Sam stated. "When Cas died, you screamed." I remembered that. That whole night was burned in to my memory, like a brand.

"I know." I stated.

"But you did more than that." He continued. "You screamed and… And you slammed your fists in to the ground. You cracked the Earth, I could feel it for a second." I furrowed my brows, trying to remember that as well.

 _Castiel arched his back, and his eyes turned white. It felt like I was fast-forwarding through time for a moment, crying and crawling in pain towards the body of the man I loved. But there had been something in between, something I'd done purely as a reaction._

 _Sam was right. I screamed. I screamed the word "no." My fists met the ground solidly, and from the space… There were cracks in the ground. I'd done something, something with my power. It had been a reaction, I hadn't even cared about what was going on unless it involved Cas at that moment, yet still… I'd done it._

I'd done something involving magic, while the spell was still working to close the Rift. It could've been because the Rift hadn't been closed yet, but still… I'd been able to do SOMETHING.

Maybe I could do something again.

I smiled brightly at Sam, standing up immediately. "I have a plan!" I cheered. "I think I have a solid plan!"

"You do?"

"Yes! Thank you!" I hugged him immediately, ecstatic at this idea. I'd done something then. I might still be able to do something. I had an option. "Is that room I used before, when I was trying to track Cas… Is it still pretty empty?"

"I think so, yeah." Sam nodded. "Why?" I smiled brightly. Oh yeah. I had a few ideas. I could probably do this. I was certain I could do this.

"I've got work to do." I explained, turning to create a new pile. My laptop, some notebooks (including the most recent one), and as many spellbooks as I could add on. I had a plan, now. I had a freaking idea.

"OK?" Sam said the word as a question, but moved so I could get started. I went back to the room I'd been in before everything. It was exactly as I'd left it – barren, but with ingredients scattered about the singular table. I set the books down in a corner and my laptop in the center of the table before I looked at everything again. A bunch of different herbs, jars of stuff, and other ingredient options but… _You don't remember what everything is. You can't remember the difference between wolfsbane and wolfsbrew!_

I headed back to where everything had been, and picked up a few different books on how to recognize herbs. I'd already made my own notes on how to recognize more supernatural items. All I'd been doing was reading and trying to understand, but actually doing? No. I hadn't even considered it until Sam spoke up.

"I did it before." I muttered, opening up the first book in the stack. There was a spell in there I'd marked, one that I'd used frequently. "I did it before, and I can do it again damn it."

A simple spell. One that was meant to take the pain from others and put it on to myself. I could do that. I knew how to do that. I'd done it plenty of times before.

Herbs. A fair amount of them. I had them all, though. I started putting them together in a bowl, and mixed well. They had to be ground up finely together, just like last time. I kept mixing until I was absolutely certain it was ready, then thought for a moment.

I needed somebody that was hurt, someone that was feeling physical pain. And I would need their DNA. And I would need to set this all on fire.

But I needed the person first.

"Sam!" I shouted. He came over to where I was at, looking around at everything.

"What're you doing?" He asked.

"Testing a theory." I replied. I was a natural-born witch. My mom even told me. Granted, it was in a crazy-ass witch dream, but she had. There was no way all of that was gone. There was no way I couldn't do this. "I need a favor."

"What's up?"

"I need you to let me punch you." I stated simply. Sam just stared at me, uncertain and extremely confused.

"What?"

"Yeah. Punch you." I thought for a moment. "In the stomach." Had to avoid messing with the test since I'd gotten a lot of head pain from Jack's stuff. "But don't worry, if I do this right you won't feel it afterwards. Oh, and I'll need a piece of your hair, but that comes after the punch."

"Let's go back to the part about you punching me," he started to request, but I wasn't willing to wait. I needed to see how this worked. I got in close, quickly, and punched hard in to his stomach. Uppercut, just like Dean had taught me. Sam let out a grunt of pain, doubling over to grasp at his stomach. "Kylie! What the hell?!" He wheezed out. He was low enough for me to touch his head. I pulled out a hair, earning another "what the hell?!" from the hunter as I threw that and a piece of my own in to the mix.

The words… I didn't remember them, but it didn't matter. They were right in front of me anyways. I lit the mixture on fire, and hoped it would work.

 _"Cum sanare infirmos,"_ as I spoke, I could feel the headache start to mount in the back of my head. I didn't care, though. I had to do it. I had to try. I had to know what would happen. _"Infirmitatem meam mecum."_

The pain hit me like a freight train, slamming in to my gut and then… I didn't know how to describe the feeling as anything but that of how a wall must feel when a basketball rebounds off it's surface. Except the basketball was made purely of pain, and it defied the laws of normal physics to travel upwards and slam against the inner walls of my skull. The response was instantaneous on my part, leaning over the table before me. I grasped the edges of it tightly as I started to lose anything that could've been in my stomach. I was thankful that the bowl was still on the table.

In retrospect, I was also thankful that I hadn't eaten a big breakfast.

Once my nausea had settled a little I groaned, moving one arm to around my waist and the other grasping at my head as I lost my sense of equilibrium. The ground met me quickly, but I couldn't care less. I wasn't puking anymore, and the pain I was feeling inside was infinitely worse than the pain of falling to the floor. I curled up in a small ball once I was laying down, gritting my teeth.

"Kylie?!" Sam's voice reverberated around my brain, making the pain worse. I groaned again, using both hands to cover my ears.

"Talk quieter." I requested, my own voice grating inside my mind. Sam stood still, probably thinking for a moment before making his decision.

"Screw it, you're small." Each footstep felt like a hammer on the interior of my skull, causing me to wince and flinch as he went. He picked me up gently, though, which was nice.

"Kylie!" Dean's voice, sharp and insistent as he came around to the room. He must've been woken up by Sam's shout. My whole body jerked inwards, reacting as though I had been electrocuted by Dean's voice. I kept my eyes clamped shut. I was afraid of trying to open my eyes. "What happened?"

"She tried a spell." Sam kept his voice quieter as he spoke, but he was closer and I could've sworn each word was a spike being railed in to my head.

"What?!"

"Dean," I grunted through the pain. "Please keep decibel levels to a minimum." Nobody spoke after that. I waited for a choice to be made between them, or for something to happen.

"I'll get water." Dean offered, his voice much quieter now. "And a bucket." I thought about that last part for a moment. Dean had a valid reason for getting a bucket. Granted I wasn't feeling as nauseous anymore, but still… Couldn't hurt to have a backup plan just in case.

"I got her room." Sam stated. They started moving after that, their footsteps pounding to me. Sam moved quickly, though, and in maybe a minute I was in my own room. Not Castiel's, mine.

It was odd. I hadn't really been in here much since we'd returned to the Bunker.

Sam set me down on the bed gently, putting a hand to my forehead. "You don't have a fever." He assured me. I wasn't quite certain whether that was good or bad, though.

"Did it work?" I had to know. I had to know if it was all worth it. When Sam didn't answer, I reached for him blindly and managed to grasp at his wrist. "Sam." I gritted out his name. "Tell me. Did the spell work? Did it take away your pain?"

"That's not important right now." He said, his voice rushed.

"Yes, it is." I gripped his wrist tighter, forcing my eyes open so I could look at the man. "Did. It. Work?" Sam let out a breath of air, looking crestfallen as he finally chose to answer me.

"No." He said. "No, it didn't."

"Oh." For a moment, everything froze. Something had happened, yeah, but the spell… It hadn't worked. Not like it was supposed to. Something had gone wrong, _I_ had done something wrong. _You messed up. You hit your friend for nothing. You're worthless. You're too broken to cast a simple spell._ "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Sam assured me. "It was a good idea."

Dean came in shortly later with a fair amount of water bottles, a cold towel, and a large mop bucket. "Hey kiddo, how're you feeling?"

"Like I got pummeled by a kangaroo." I muttered. "And there's a pissed-off porcupine bouncing around in my skull."

"Sounds like a hangover."

"I wish." I looked around the room, and acknowledged that the lights weren't quite making my pain worse, but weren't making it better either. Everything still hurt like all hell, but it was starting to ebb away slowly.

"What did you do?" He handed me a water bottle, and I took a few tentative sips before proceeding to gulp the entire thing.

"I tried to cast a spell." I admitted. "One that I'd done a lot before I was a full witch. I… I punched Sam." Dean looked over from me to Sam, and saw the change in his expressions as he nodded. Dean snickered a little. "It was supposed to transfer the pain from him to me, but… Sam said it didn't work." I shook my head for a moment, and instantly regretted the motion.

"Why did you try to do that?" Dean asked.

"I…" I glanced over at Sam, and saw his face as impassive as could be. I wasn't certain whether or not he wanted me to tell Dean, but I didn't want to throw him under the bus in case he didn't want me to. "I remembered creating cracks in the ground after Lucifer… killed Castiel." The words were still hard to get out sometimes. "I thought that maybe I could still cast spells in some way, and that going back to the beginnings of when I started would help me get a better understanding of what happened. But… It was a bad idea, obviously." I looked down as I said those last words. Being able to do some sort of spell or magic… that had been my last hope. I felt so… so defeated, then. Magic was rejecting me like some sort of disease, causing me physical pain at every turn. I didn't even know how I could begin to figure out why, not with even the simplest spells that a person without power could use turning against me in such pain. I knew I'd gotten the ingredients right. I knew I'd done that spell right.

So why didn't it work? How could I even start to figure out how it all worked?

"Hey, you tried, right?" Dean asked. "So… So you're stunted from all things magic. That's OK."

"No, it's not." I argued. "That spell… It shouldn't have reacted like that. It means there's something wrong, fundamentally, with me."

"Are you sure you did it right?" Sam asked. I nodded.

"I'm positive. I did that spell exactly as I should've. It should've worked exactly like it was supposed to." I tried to think on it more, but my head still hurt so much… the focus to try and solve the problem only exacerbated the pain. "I don't know what went wrong."

"Maybe…" Sam thought for a moment. "Maybe it's because we went through the Rift?"

"Huh?" Dean mirrored my own words as we both looked at Sam.

"Think about it." Sam said. "What if there's still some sort of Rift energy messing with all of us. You said it yourself Kylie, magic was different over there." He wasn't wrong. "Maybe it's still a part of us, like how angelic grace hangs around in a host for a while after the angel leaves." I winced a little at that, earning an apologetic look from Sam. "Sorry. But still, it's a possibility." I shrugged. It made sense, kind of. But without being able to physically sense it…

Maybe closing the Rift had taken more from me than I had originally thought. Maybe it had taken everything it could've, or maybe that other world had. It was a good theory, just one I couldn't test to prove.

"You're probably right." I finally admitted to them. "Maybe it is Rift stuff. Maybe I just…" I let out a small sigh. "Maybe it took everything when it closed. Maybe I just can't cast anymore, because… because the Rift took everything it could've." I wasn't certain how I felt when I said those words, but at the same time it was the only explanation I had. Rift energy still messing with me. Rift energy screwing me up.

Rift energy possibly screwing me over for life.

When a spell calls for a sacrifice, it's not always ones you expect.


	13. Catharsis

The next case they went on came and went like smoke. I stayed behind on that one under the guise of "research" and "holding down the fort." Dean didn't like that I stayed, but I also think he didn't want to risk being alone with Jack. Sam understood a little more. He was alright with bringing Jack along, though. It was an odd contrast.

It also didn't stop any of them from texting or calling me with questions – On the case, if I was OK, and how to deal with each other.

"Hey, what looks like a ghost, acts like a revenant, but leaves a body and isn't any of those?" Dean. I'd asked him if an evil twin was an option. He told me to knock it off.

"Hey, just checking in. How're you doing?" Sam. Always kind. Always understanding. Always sympathetic. Sometimes the sympathy stung more. I'm fine, Sam.

"Kylie, I need some advice." Jack. His voice was slightly hushed. "There is a man in front of me being angry about sauerkraut on a hotdog. He is causing a longer wait. What if Dean blames me for the wait on his hotdog? What if he also wishes for extra sauerkraut?" I told him that Dean didn't like that stuff and to just tell him that the guy before Jack had been an ass. "I don't think that terminology will go over well." Then just tell him the honest truth.

"Hey kiddo, how're you doing? Got an answer for me yet?" Dean again. I was in my twenties now, but I was still "kiddo" to him. I asked him what the victims had in common. "They all went to the same therapist. Something about… catharsis?" It's the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions. I fought back the urge to tell him they all needed some catharsis in their lives. "Great. Sam is going to be all over this one." Have fun at hunt-mandated therapy, Dean.

"Hey Kylie…" Sam. He sounded emotionally distressed, but in a reserved way; as though a lot of hard emotions were waiting to explode from just under the surface. Are you OK? "I… It's Dean." It's always Dean. "We were trying to get information from the therapist and I know that Dean was just trying to bait me for the woman so that I can get a look around, but… I just…" It was about Mary. Of course it would be about Mary. I asked again if he was OK. "Yes and no. I was just hoping, you know? Maybe he'd benefit from a little of this. Maybe he'd try to see my point of view." All I could think was the catharsis again, and how they all needed it. Sam and Dean needed it for different reasons about Mary. Jack needed it for Kelly and his lineage and to deal with how the brothers perceived him and how he perceived himself and so much more. I refused to acknowledge that I probably needed it too. "Um… I'm gonna call you back." Sam's tone changed. What is it? What happened? "Shapeshifter therapist." That would definitely answer Dean's riddle.

"What does simpatico mean?" Jack. He sounded like that wasn't the question he wanted to lead with, but the one he felt most comfortable with. It's Spanish. It means you guys are like friends and that you get along easily. "Oh. Dean said that we were simpatico." Are you? "I think he was using it as a lie to the therapist woman." I didn't bother saying that it was probably true. That would just be kicking him while he was down. "I want to ask the woman something, but I don't know if it is a good idea. I think that Dean would be disappointed if I did this." Well what is it? "I wish to ask the therapist to shift into my mother." My breath caught a little. I could imagine a different scenario, if our places were reverse. I want to ask if she would shift into Castiel. Into Crowley. Into Kevin. Into Rowena. Into my own mother or father or brothers. "Do you think that this would be OK?" I didn't even hesitate before telling him yes. Who cares what Dean and Sam think? This is for you. This is what will help you best. You deserve the chance to talk to your mother and say goodbye, or hello, or whatever you feel like you need to say or need to hear. Do it. "Thank you." He sounded better after hearing my reassurance. "I… I will after we have finished with the other shapeshifter. Thank you. I needed to hear those words, I believe. How are you?" I'm doing what I can. Don't worry about me, though. Talk with Mia.

"Hey, I need a favor. Can you get be a quick background check?" Dean. "The name is Tom Callup." Tom Callup had five cats, a small home, and seemed to have lived there all his life. No weird about him. Dean was going to check him with a silver dollar just in case. "And Mia Vallens." The therapist. No weird around her in general, besides the fact that she had no history until about five years before her practice took off. But that was expected for a shapeshifter. Other than that, no weird deaths or instances up until this point. Lots of good reviews around her practice. Lots of talk about catharsis again. She seemed pretty clean. "Thanks. You doing OK?" I'm fine, Dean.

"Can you run background on John Driscoll?" Sam. The guy was a long-term resident of the town. Started going to Mia for therapy a few weeks ago. No wife or kids. There was a significant change in his spending habits about a week or so ago; he'd transferred a fair amount of money into a different account. The guy had a cellphone, though. Sam was certain that was him, he just wanted to double-check. "Can you get me a trace on his phone?" Of course I can, the guy has his location services on. I gave him a current location address after a few minutes and told him I'd update him if it moved. "Thanks. You still doing good?" Yeah Sam. I'm fine.

"Did Sam call you?" Dean. Yeah, Sam called. He wanted the location of the guy's cell. "And you sent him there?" Yes, I did. "Can you track his cell phone for me?" He's still at the address. I bet he's about to call you. "Yeah, I've got an incoming call from him now. Are you on your way here?" No. I'm states away. Why would I be coming? "Look, I may need backup. Where are you now?" The Bunker. Where I have been this entire time. Are you OK? "I'm gonna answer Sam." Weird.

"Kylie!" Dean's voice, sharp an insistent. It was the next day. "Are you alright?" I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? "I… I'll explain when we get back. Are you coming to Wisconsin right now?" No. I was waiting to see how it all went today. What's wrong? "Long story incredibly short, the bad shifter is dead and he was going for a TPK." You know D&D terminology? "Shut up. Did you not hear the part where a shifter impersonated me to try and kill you too?" I heard it. "Is that not problematic to you?!" Are you alive? "Yeah." Is Sam alive? "Yeah." Is Jack alive? "Yeah." Then it's not problematic. I'll give you all the salt and silver exam when you get back, though. "You're way too calm about this." Someone has to be. Did you reach catharsis? "Shut up." You're smiling. I can hear it. "Whatever, nerd. We're on our way back. Be normal when we get there." Can do, therapy man.

"Hey, we're about halfway back." Sam. He seemed less distressed now. "How're you?" I'm pretty good. "I think you freaked Dean out a little bit from taking the shapeshifter news so calmly." What did he expect? For me to freak out myself? "I think he expected just a little more emotion. In all honesty, I did too. Are you OK?" I'm fine, Sam. I promise.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm sitting in the Bunker alone, working on research and trying to keep myself distracted. I'm keeping my brain off of the constant thought that I'm too useless to go on a hunt, too useless to tell when it's a shapeshifter instead of Dean, and too useless to have figured out it was shapeshifters in the first place. I was still useless. I was trying and trying to not be by keeping myself awake and fighting and training and researching and doing whatever else might make me feel less useless.

I'm trying to stop being useless. I'm trying to stop being broken, like Dean said. I'm trying to stop being weak and scared and easily to destroy but in all honesty that felt like the tallest order I could ever imagine and I wasn't certain if I would ever be able to achieve it. I felt like I was Sisyphus, pushing a boulder up a hill that I would never get to the top. The weight of everything I was trying to accomplish – of trying to get back to who I was – it felt like an impossible task.

I would never be who I was, and I couldn't accept that.

I pushed those thoughts aside, seeing my phone ring again. It was Jack.

"Hey Jack."

"I was wondering as to how you were doing." His voice sounded flat and uncertain as he spoke. I raised an eyebrow.

"Sam put you up to this?"

"No."

"You're a bad liar."

"… Yes."

"I promise you I'm fine, Jack."

"That is not what you said last time." His voice was a little more hushed when he spoke. He was trying to respect my privacy. "If something is wrong, you can tell me." This sounded more sincere.

"I said that how I was doing wasn't important. There's a difference between that and not fine."

"There is also a difference between that and fine." He pointed out.

"Well, I assure you that if something was seriously wrong I'd tell you guys." I replied. Jack thought for a moment. I could hear some whispering on his end.

"Dean says that that is a lie." He replied. I heard a slightly louder and more familiar "dammit" in the background after that. "I believe I have made a mistake." I smiled a little bit.

"I'll see you guys when you get back." I said. "Don't get in too much trouble."

"Alright." Jack agreed. I hung up on him resolutely, the same two words ringing in the back of my head. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.

Then another word: catharsis.

Who the hell needs catharsis, though? I was fine. I was perfectly fine.


	14. Fire

Jack requested more training when he got back. I wasn't certain how to train him, in all honesty. Usually to teach magic, you needed to be able to do magic. Then again, Crowley left me on my own for days at a time when I was first learning. His only general instructions were to light the candle in front of me on fire.

Candles were easy. That was a possibility. It was better than nothing.

So a few days later, when the boys went out, I set us up in a barren room. No curtains, no table even, nothing that could light on fire besides ourselves and the object I set between us; a candle.

"What are we doing in here?" Jack asked, looking around.

"It's a safety measure." I replied. "When I first starting doing this I didn't really have control either, and I lit a lot of other things on fire than just a candle." I shrugged a little, remembering how many things in the cabin bit the dust.

"Like what?" Jack asked.

"Like everything else but the candle." I smirked as I said that. "And because I know you aren't certain how to quite control your powers, but at the same time you can under certain circumstances, I figured it would be a smarter choice to leave out that possibility."

"OK." He took one more look around the room before he nodded. "How do I light the candle?"

"With your power." I stated. He just looked at me, confused as all hell. I took a breath, thinking back hard. "Here, hold a hand out towards the candle," I started, showing him the movement myself. He copied me, watching my movements intensely. "Now focus on the candle and the wick. Imagine how it looks like when it's lit." He scrunched his eyes a little, and I smiled. "Try closing your eyes." I encouraged. "It helps sometimes." He did as I said, but his eyes were still scrunched. "No, not like that." I shook my head, and he opened his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You're tense, like you're trying really really hard to be perfect."

"Because I am."

"Magic isn't perfect, or perfection." I said. "It's… messy. And it's dependent on both the caster's abilities and their emotions. If you focus on perfection, you won't get it right."

"Then what do you do?"

"Focus on… On the memory." I said. "On the feeling of warmth. When you think of being warm, what do you think of? Besides fire."

"A blanket." He smiled with the word. I smiled with him. This was good. This was helpful.

"What else?"

"Um…" He thought for a second. "A, uh… This place is quite warm." He offered, motioning to the room around us.

"What about warm inside?" I asked. "Like… a content warm? A happy warm?"

"An emotional warmth?" He asked. I nodded. "I… I don't know. I like chocolate with nougat." He offered.

"No, I mean…" I sought for the right words. "What's something that makes you feel safe, makes you feel surrounded with warmth that means you're not alone and that some things in the world are actually good?" I tried. "What makes you feel hopeful?"

He leaned back a little, lowering his hand as he thought. I waited patiently until, finally, he had an answer. "A hug." He stated. I laughed a little. He was as awkward at the hug thing as Castiel had been. "Is that, is that a bad choice?"

"No," I shook my head, still smiling. "No, it's a good choice. Hold your hand up again and think about the candle." He complied, closing his eyes as he did. "Don't focus too hard, or you might light more than just the wick." I considered for a moment the fact that I was opposite him, and in turn directly behind the candle.

I shifted a little so that I was more at a 90 degree angle to him and the candle, putting myself out of the line of fire. "Good. That looks good. Can you see the candle in your mind, as it is now?"

"I think so."

"Good. Now I want you to imagine it lit." I said. "A small flame in the darkness, a little bit of… Of warm hope inside of you and in front of you." I closed my own eyes, remembering what I had thought of when I finally lit the candle myself; the memory of a fireside picnic with Castiel, and candles around us. "Imagine that feeling of a hug, alongside the lit candle. Can you see it, in your mind?"

"I… I think so." He said. I could feel a slight change in his voice.

"It's OK. Relax. Let it flow freely. With magic… You have to give a small piece of yourself away with it. It'll come back to you, I promise; but for something to be made, you gotta give a little with it." I felt good as I said this, remembering when I'd first been successful. It was a happy memory. It made me feel accomplished, like I could actually do something and… and be useful.

I shook those words from my brain, focusing on the task at hand. This wasn't about me, this was about Jack. "Allow the memory to move from you in to the candle, and in turn it's flame." I opened my eyes, watching Jack and the candle. I could see the wick start to flicker a little bit here and there. "Good. Almost. Once you feel comfortable, once you feel as though the memory has linked itself to the candle, focus on that flame once more and give it the command word."

"What's the command word?" There were different options for this, depending on what kind of fire you wanted, but I told him the one I'd used first.

" _Inferno._ " I said, closing my eyes once more. I could just barely remember the feeling of when I could light a fire in my palm. I could almost feel the warmth, feel the happiness of succeeding and the joys of exercises I could do with it. The stories, the fireworks, everything. I could feel a bit of Jack's magic starting to take form as I remembered, almost feel the flames themselves once more.

" _Inferno._ " He whispered.

For an instant, it felt as though my head had been split open. I instinctively curled in to a small ball, fighting the urge to screech. "Kylie?!" Jack asked, instantly alarmed. I winced at the volume.

"Quiet voices." I whispered. It only took a moment for the spell to work, opened my eyes, and saw the candle lit perfectly. I smiled at him, raising a hand to clap him on the back. "Way to go, Jack!" I congratulated. Before my hand could touch him, though, I stopped.

My arm was also on fire.

"Shit!" I shouted, for a second trying to reign in the flames on reflex. I could feel the fire now, really feel it. I could feel the bite of it on my skin. I slapped it on the ground, blowing as hard as I could. "Jack!" He took off his jacket quickly, whacking my arm with it until the flames were finally doused.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly, looking at my arm. It was definitely burnt, but only first and minor second degrees. I would be fine. "I'm so sorry."

"It's OK." I promised, standing up. The candle was still surprisingly lit, and otherwise untouched. "Like I said, I burned everything else in the room when I first tried; even myself a few times. We'll call it an opening for a new lesson."

"A new lesson?"

"The first thing I actually could do semi-successfully," I explained, motioning to my arm. "Was reign in the fires I created that were, well… not lighting the right spot. Crowley taught me how to not burn down the cabin we were in, and each time I did that I tended to light myself on fire for a long while in the process. That's not even including the times where I just straight-up lit myself on fire to begin with."

"So… I can stop the fire too?" Jack summed up. I nodded. "How?"

"Well, with a candle, two ways." I said. "One, the non-magic way, is to lick your fingers and pinch the flame out." When I saw him starting to mimic the motions I described, I grabbed his arm quickly. "But that's not what we're going to do. We're going to do this the magic way."

"How do I do that?"

"Hold a hand out to the flames again," I told him. He complied, not quite touching it just yet. I remembered all the times I had to shove my arm directly in to the flames, and all the times in learning that that had hurt more than anything else. Jack wouldn't have to do that, though. I knew he wouldn't. "And call the memory back. Magic is messy, but that's because it's about intent, and sometimes it's hard to solidify that. You have to solidify the idea that you want the fire back, and that you want the energy back. For larger flames, I actually would stick my whole arm in," Jack looked at me alarmed at that.

"I thought you said you burnt yourself when you did that?"

"At first, yeah. I got better." I shrugged. "Don't worry. You're not doing that right now. Instead just… Just lightly touch it with your finger when you're ready to bring it back, and call that warmth back within yourself."

He lowered his hand, and chose to watch the flame for a little longer. "I… I created that?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yeah." I offered him a small smile as I did. "Yeah, you did."

"It's pretty." He commented.

"It can be."

"What else can you do with fire?"

"Stories, attacks, fireworks," I thought for a moment. "What do you want to do with it?"

"I like the light it makes." He decided. "And I like the warmth from it."

"I think you can make that too." He looked a little happier by the reassurance, then he saddened once more.

"Can I… Can I make Dean like me?" He asked. I let out a sigh, and the flame flickered for a moment.

"Dean doesn't hate you," I started. "He just… He's hard to get used to. When a person loses someone they care about that much… Their reactions can get really negative. When I first became a witch, I thought he and Sam both hated me too." Jack looked at me in surprise.

"Why would they hate you?"

"Because they thought I was dead," I looked in to the small little flame as I spoke, remembering what had happened. "And because I wasn't the person they remembered me to be. They thought I was a normal, dead human. They thought that it had been partially their fault that I'd died. When all of that turned out to be not true… It was hard for them to adjust to the new truth. They didn't like being lied to, understandably, and I think… I think they were confused." I nodded at that. "I think they were confused and uncertain and a little scared as to me being back in general, and then with the magic it just turned that confusion in to full-blown anger and, for a long time, what I perceived as hate and hurt." I could still hear both brothers yelling, in the back of my mind. Both angry and unwilling to accept me for who I was.

"But they… They don't look like that now." Jack pointed out. "They both seem extremely protective of you." I nodded.

"It's because… I don't have anybody else, and at this point neither do they really." I said. "They lost their mom, their best friend, even a person I think they were kind of OK with… They lost a lot of good people that they cared about. I almost died too. And there have been more, over the years, that they've lost. Really, really good people that are gone now." I could see Kevin's face in the back of my mind, as clear as day. "They don't have a lot of people left that they consider family, and in all honesty I don't either." I pursed my lips as I thought about it. I only had Sam and Dean now. Everyone else… There were a few other people I knew, like Claire and Jody, but… They weren't quite family. They were like good friends.

Sam and Dean were my only family, now.

"Am I…" He thought for a moment on his question. "Is there a possibility, in the future, that I could become… a part of their family?" I looked over at him to see him staring at the flame as well. He looked scared by his own question. I thought on that, thought on what he was asking. He was asking if he could be accepted, if he could be cared about like how Sam and Dean care about each other or how I cared about them or how Cas and Crowley had cared about me. He was asking if there was a future in which he was accepted, cared for, and protected like the rest of us.

In that moment, I wanted to tell him yes, automatically, no doubt about it. Dean will come around, and Sam already cares for you, and I've got your back, in case you didn't notice. I wanted to tell him things would be fine and OK, that nobody cared about what his lineage was or how powerful he was or any of that. I just wanted to tell him yes, he would be in their family too.

But I didn't know if that would be the truth, in the long run. I knew Sam was at least OK with him, but Dean… Dean still looked at the kid and saw Lucifer (or worse, saw Cas). But when I looked at him… I saw the promise I made Kelly. I saw the faith that Castiel had had in a child that wasn't even born yet.

"You know," I said, bringing his attention towards me. "I'll be extremely honest with you, I don't know for sure." His face fell, and I continued talking. "Everyone has gone through hard times, and these are admittedly some of the worst. It takes time to heal and figure out what to do next." In the back of my mind, I could hear the plan I made with Dean. It was my only lifeline, more or less. It was how I believed I could start to maybe be OK, at some point. Jack didn't have that, though. Jack just had… probably what I was telling him right now. "But I can tell you this. You're a part of my family." His eyes widened. "So you're not alone in this, I'm here for you. Are you OK with that?"

"Yes." He agreed automatically. "Yes, I am."

"Good. So don't let those boys get you down about anything, OK?"

"OK." He smiled a little, looking back at the candle. He reached a finger out towards it, lightly touching the flame. My brain surged once more in to absolute agony, but this time I managed to only grit my teeth. After a few seconds, both my pain and the fire were gone.

"Good." I encouraged. "You're going to get the hang of this no problem." He looked over at me, proud of his own work.

"What did you think of?" He asked. I furrowed my brows, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you used to be able to do this." Jack explained. "And the way you described the process made it sound as though it was what you did for it to work. So what did you think of, when you were learning how to accomplish all of this?"

"Oh…" I took a small breath. It wouldn't be worth lying to him, and maybe telling him would strengthen his ideas of what to think of with different spells. "I… I thought of Castiel, when I was learning. We went on a picnic, and there were candles, and… It helped. Thinking of Castiel helped me with learning a lot of this, in the beginning."

"What happened after? When you stopped having to think about it all so much?"

"Just that." I shrugged. "I didn't need to think about it as much. It was just… just reflex. It became an extension of myself. I could just will whatever I needed, or I could create whatever I wanted For a lot of spells, that command word stopped being necessary." I remembered how I would just do spell outlines without even thinking of it, just like how an artist would draw absent-mindedly. "When you get good at it, it's just a part of you."

"What could you do, when you were good at it?"

"Almost anything I wanted."

"Like fire?"

"Yeah."

"And the… the force push?"

"Oh yeah."

"And you chose when you used your powers?"

"For the most part, yes." I remembered when I hadn't had as much control; when I'd thrown Dean and Castiel and Crowley across rooms.

"Does that make you… Make you good?" He asked. "Did it mean you weren't… just supposed to be something bad, something that should be… should be killed?"

"The powers made me unique," I said cautiously. "But the choices I made with them… Those are what determined whether I was a good witch or a bad witch." He didn't quite look as comforted by that answer. I put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Just because your dad is Lucifer doesn't mean you're going to be exactly like him, and you need to keep remembering that."

"It's hard." He said. "I keep looking around and… everything I see and hear and do just reminds me that I'm supposed to be some sort of monster."

"So was I." I pointed out. "So were Sam and Dean, at one point."

"What made people stop seeing you like that?" He asked. "What made you stop seeing yourself like… like a monster?"

"The same thing that determined what magic I cast." I replied. "Intent."


	15. The Empty

Castiel woke up roughly. For a moment, he could've sworn he heard his own name being spoken. He was in darkness, but… Darkness that seemed to have it's own sort of light. It wasn't blinding darkness, it was just as though he was on an endless plane of emptiness.

How had he fallen asleep here? How had he even gotten here in the first place? The last thing he remembered was…

Kylie.

She was dying. She was hurt, badly. She'd been on the ground. Something had been wrong with her. Where was she?

He sat up to look around, seeing nothing but more emptiness. "Hello?" No response. His voice didn't even echo in the area, just fell flat. "Dean? Sam? Kylie?" Nothing. "Crowley?" The second he said the name, his mind flashed to a body he'd seen in the grey earth. Crowley wouldn't be answering. "Mary?"

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"God?"

Nothing still.

"Where am I?" He asked, starting to walk. If he kept going in a singular direction, he would end up somewhere, right?

Castiel wanted to believe that. He really did. But he had a sinking feeling that wherever he was, there was no somewhere that he would end up at.

"Hello?" He kept calling. "Sam? Dean? Mary? Kylie?" He was almost scared to call for Kylie. All he could see when he thought of her was how he'd seen her last. All he could think was that she might be dead right now. All he could hear was the last word he heard her say- his own name.

 _"Cas." Her leg was mangled. Her body looked as though she had been tortured for a lifetime within a matter of minutes. Bullet wounds. Burn marks. Broken nose. Slashes and scrapes and stabs. A life's worth of injuries compounded on a single person._

 _But when she said his name, she said it with a spark of hope in her eyes. She was tired. She was so close to dying, Castiel could feel it. She wasn't healing. She was smiling, though. The smile was what drove him onwards._

 _He was about to speak, to tell her that he loved her or to ask if she was OK or to just touch her and heal her and hold her in his arms. There were too many things that he wanted to say and do all at once._

 _Then his chest exploded in pain, and he felt like he was burning._

 _He died in front of all of them._

But if he had died, where was he now?

"Dean?" He called out again. Dean had gotten out relatively unscathed. "Sam?" He had as well. "Mary?" Mary could still be alive. There was no use calling out for Kelly, she would be dead. The child would only be just that, a child. "Kylie?"

 _"Cas." Mangled leg. Tortured body. Death's door within her grasp._

 _"I love you." The last words he'd said to her._

Castiel kept calling out to them, and kept receiving no answer. "Hello?! Anyone?"

He felt a presence behind him after a bit of time, but ignored it at first. Whatever it was, it was harmlessly following him. Besides, if he said he knew it was there the creature might spook and run away.

Eventually, though, he had to speak. The thing behind him was the only thing he knew was there with him. If it was Sam or Dean or Kylie or Mary, they would've spoken already. This was someone, or something, that had been watching him. It had been waiting. It wanted to see what he did.

"I know you're there." Castiel finally spoke. "I can feel you."

"Hello." The voice sounded familiar. It sounded like… like his own.

Castiel turned around to see another him, but one that felt different. It felt… older. Darker. Different. It may look like him, but it was a far cry from being akin to Castiel.

"What are you?" Castiel asked.

"Oh, I'm just your friendly neighborhood cosmic entity." Said entity shrugged, making facial expressions that looked out of place on Castiel's face.

"Why do you look like me?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, yes. Well, I show up in my real form, and you freak out, rip out your own eyes, et cetera." Castiel's eyes widened slightly. That was… It would take an extremely powerful being to provoke that sort of reaction from Castiel. That was usually the reaction that he caused when humans saw his true form. "That would be embarrassing, wouldn't it? For both of us."

"What is this place?" Castiel decided to ask next.

"Oh, yes. Excellent question." The entity clapped his hands together, rubbing them a little. "You see, before God and Amara, creation, destruction, Heaven, Hell, your precious little Earth, what was there?"

"Nothing."

"Yes. That's right. Nothing. Nothing but Empty. And you are soaking in it." Castiel felt unnerved by that sentence. "Angels and demons, you all come here when you die."

"Every angel that ever died is here?" For a moment, the face of every angel Castiel had ever killed flashed through his mind. It was a long list. It was a painful list.

"Yes, sleeping an endless, peaceful sleep. You know I… I was sleeping, too." Castiel started to feel a change in the air around him. "Hey, uh, since we're pals, there's something I've gotta know. I've just gotta ask. Hmm. Why are you awake?" This seemed to unnerve the being. "'Cause fun fact—in all of forever, nothing ever wakes up here. I mean, ever. Ever. And second fun fact—when you woke up, I woke up, and I don't like being awake. So…what's up, smart guy?"

"I don't know." In truth, he had no idea.

"Well, _think!_ " The entity urged. Castiel sought for an idea in his mind. He'd heard that voice, the one he didn't recognize… But he didn't tell the entity that. That would be pointless.

"The Winchesters." He guessed. "Sam and Dean, they must've made a deal." Or Kylie. He pushed that thought aside the second it entered his brain. No, she wouldn't make a deal. Not with any demon except for Crowley. She would have to be alive to make a deal.

"No. No, no, no. Not with me, and I'm—I'm the only one that has any pull here." Castiel felt his hopes dashed at that point. "Not Heaven, not Hell, not G-O-D himself. So think harder." The entity poked him in the middle of the forehead, quite hard. "Rack that _perky_ little brain of yours." Castiel took a step back from the Entity. Something had changed about him. Something had become more menacing.

"Stay away from me." Castiel warned. He had no power, though. That was obvious.

"Okay, fine." The entity decided. "I'll rack it for you." The entity took another step forwards, placing a hand firmly on Castiel's head. When Kylie had done this in the past, it hadn't been painful as more as like opening up an eye he'd forgotten he had.

This time, it was that same burning feeling as when Lucifer stabbed him.


	16. Life is Pain

We practiced fire for a long while. When I say we, I mean that I left him alone in the room to practice it on his own while I disappeared to another. Distance didn't help much with the pain. In all honesty, it was more so that Jack didn't have to see the adverse side effects of his powers.

I did leave him with instructions before I left, however. "Once you feel comfortable with lighting and putting out the candle, try something different. Light it, and move it around the room without touching it."

"You mean using the force push?"

"Exactly. But this one is a little more precise. Instead of just shoving an object in a direction, you'll be physically moving it around an area and putting it back in it's original position. This is like a… A more controlled force push, like guiding a balloon."

"I have never seen a balloon before, nor guided one."

"Then think of it like…" I actually picked up the candle at that point and moved it around the room. "Like that. But with your mind."

"Alright."

"I'll text you in about an hour for break time. We'll have hot chocolate and discuss how you're doing." Jack perked up at the mention of hot chocolate. In general, he was happy. He was having some definitive success today. It wasn't necessarily easy success, but it was success.

And I could physically feel the pain in my head the more successful he got with it. I wanted to work, but instead all I could do was stay curled up in a small painful ball as Jack practiced. He'd stop for a second, and start again. Stop, then start again. The pauses were extremely short, leaving me in near-constant physical pain.

In a moment where the pain wasn't as bad, I contemplated on what would happen when Sam and Dean came back. Dean would probably have an aneurism and drive me far enough away for the pain to stop. Sam would be proud of Jack and his improvements. They two of them would fight and argue again about the good and bad of our situation. Jack would feel hurt and his progress would recede.

I would have to intervene before the brothers got back. I'd have to probably have him stop. I did my best to wait out an hour, but it was… It was painful, to say the least. 15 minutes felt like an hour in itself.

I made it through 25 before I caved and texted Jack. The pain stopped maybe a few minutes afterwards, followed another few minutes more by a soft knock on my door. "Kylie?"

"Gimme a second." I stretched from the fetal position slowly, rubbing slow circles in my temples. This pain wasn't going away anytime soon. I still had to get up, though. I'd promised Jack hot chocolate.

"Do you require assistance?"

"No." Half-lie, but I could get the hell up by myself.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." Definite lie.

"Are you just saying that so I do not feel bad?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

"Not really."

"Then don't worry about it."

"Alright." I sat up a little more, bringing myself fully to the edge of my bed. I rested my elbows on my knees, and kept rubbing my temples. This headache definitely wasn't going away anytime soon. On the bright side, now I knew the affects of prolonged exposure.

The door opened slowly as I sat. I didn't look up. I knew who it would be. "Hello." Jack said softly.

"Hey buddy." I replied. "How's it feel to know how to do magic?"

"I feel conflicted." He admitted, sounding concerned. "It is fun to do, exhilarating even. But at the same time I do not wish to keep hurting you."

"Don't worry about me. I'm a big girl. I'll be fine." I looked up at him, offering the biggest smile I could. "Besides, it's break time, and you deserve a reward. How does hot chocolate sound?"

"It sounds wonderful!" He cheered. I could see some light and happiness come back into his eyes. Good. He should be happy about his powers. He shouldn't be afraid to use them. He shouldn't be afraid of hurting people with them.

As I thought those words, I realized that that had never really been an actual fear when I could do magic. I hadn't really ever been afraid of hurting people on accident. I had been afraid of how the title would change perceptions of me. I was afraid of being evil no matter what I did.

I hadn't been afraid of what I could do to others. I had been more afraid of what others would think of me; what the people I cared about would do to me. Jack had those same fears as well, but it hurt to see him so afraid to use his powers.

I had to do something to make him stop being afraid. I had to make him embrace who he was.

We walked to the kitchen quietly, an idea brewing in my mind. Jack still looked happy, but a muted version; like he was almost ashamed of his happiness. "Hey, Jack?" We rounded the corner to the kitchen and got to work.

"Yeah?"

"Can you heat up the water for me?"

"Sure." He got one of the smaller hanging pots and put some water in it. I stopped him before he reached the stove though.

"Nope."

"What do you mean no?" He asked. "I thought you wanted me to heat up the water."

"I still do." I promised.

"Then how am I supposed to?" I smiled at him a little, checking to make sure I had nothing in my hands before I tapped my head. The second he understood he shook his head.

"This is supposed to be break time." He tried.

"It still is." I promised. "But it's also good to get familiar with your powers. The best way to do that is use. The more you get used to them, the more they'll feel like an extension of your person."

"I would rather not." Jack stated. He looked at me warily as he spoke.

"Come on, man. I'll be fine. It's important that you're comfortable in what you can do."

"I am not comfortable with using my powers around you."

"Jack, you need to be able to use your abilities, with or without me around." I pointed out.

"But what if I hurt you? What if I accidentally light you on fire?" There was an unspoken again in his words. "I have to see the consequences of my actions every time, Kylie. You may feel it, but I see it." He looked horrified by that. I shrugged.

"Nobody likes seeing that." I commented. "But you still have to be able to do it."

"But not now."

"Jack, let's be blunt." I stated honestly, all happiness fleeing my voice. "You actually do need to have control over your own powers. You have them. You can use them."

"I am gaining control." He argued. "I do not need to use them all the time, though."

"No, but you need to be more comfortable in using them. Now just warm up the water and we'll call it good, OK?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No. Now please stop asking." Jack turned away from me and to the stove. I started to feel angry at that, and I could tell Jack wasn't too happy either. If he would just listen to me…

"Jack," my voice was harsher than I meant as I reached across to grab his arm. He jerked away from me violently, looking almost… afraid?

"I said no!" He shouted the words this time. In an instant, I felt as though I was Dean a few years ago. My body flew backwards and in to the fridge, causing me to slam my head hard against it's metallic surface. That wasn't what caused the real pain though. My skull felt like it was about to split open from the inside out.

My ears were ringing with the pain, blocking out all other sound. I wanted to curl up in a small ball again. My muscles, though… they felt like they all weighed too much to move. I could hear a bit of noise in the background of the ringing; it sounded familiar. I was too dazed to make sense of it though.

The voice started to come into clarity as the ringing subsided, turning from muffled noises to sharp words. "Kylie? Kylie I'm so sorry. Are you alright? Kylie?"

I let out a cough. "Nice shot." I commented dryly. Yeah, there was no way in hell this hadn't been what Dean had felt, at least for a moment. Then again, at that point in time Dean hadn't quite been Dean. But I was me, right?

Then again, would normal me have grabbed Jack like that? Would normal me have pushed so hard? Crowley had done it to me, true, but he'd also had the power to defend himself. I… I didn't.

I was trying to be for Jack what Crowley had been for me, but in truth I wasn't Crowley. I would never be able to be Crowley. I was just… just me.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Jack." I said, starting to get up. "Good response. Really good response. That's a pretty powerful move." I rubbed the back of my head. When I brought my fingers away, they were stained in red. "Shit."

"What?" Jack pulled my hand to him and saw the same thing. "No."

"Jack, it'll be OK." I started to feel a little woozy though as I spoke. "Look, there's a medical kit three doors down and to the left. Grab it and come back."

"I… I fixed you before." Jack stated. "I can do it again."

"Go get the medical kit, Jack." I said softly. "You were right. We should've stopped for the day."

"I can fix this!" Jack said frantically. He placed a hand to the side of my face, and I flinched away automatically. He flinched too, looking even more scared.

"Get the medical kit." I repeated, placing a hand against the fridge. I needed it for balance. "Hurry." Jack ran off without another word. I pushed my hand harder against the fridge, but I could feel that I was going to lose my balance if I wasn't smart. So I sat back down, bowing my head low as I did. It didn't help, but it didn't hurt either.

Jack returned a few moments later with the kit. "What do I do?" He asked. I took a breath, focusing on thinking. What to do in this situation. I knew what I would've done before, but I had to think of what we could do now.

"You're going to have to take a look at my head." I stated. "Clean off the blood and tell me how deep it looks."

"What do I do if it's really deep? Or if the blood doesn't stop?"

"We'll figure that out if it becomes a possibility." I replied. "Grab an alcohol swab from the kit, part my hair aside, and clean the wound."

"OK." He said, and started probing at my head. I hissed when his fingers met the wound. "Are you alright?"

"That's the spot." I muttered. "Pull hair on either side away." I could feel it was on the back right of my head. Majority of my hair would be on the left. I pulled a hair tie off my wrist, and started gathering hair from that side in to my hand. Jack helped gently, and let me know quietly when it looked like all the hair had been moved away. I bound the hair with the tie and took a deep breath. "Use the alcohol swab to clean the wound."

"That's going to hurt you, isn't it?" Jack asked. I nodded slowly.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry." He whispered again, pressing the swab gently to my head. It stung like a bitch, but this time I held in my hiss.

"Don't be." I replied. "It was a good throw." He kept cleaning slowly. One by one alcohol swabs piled next to me until there were five in total, each completely stained red.

"I think it's stopped bleeding now." Jack said.

"How deep is the wound?"

"I… I don't know. I can see some white." He admitted. I gritted my teeth, but didn't tell him what it meant. Instead, I chose to lie.

"Don't worry, it's just muscle." I said. "That means the cut isn't too deep. Does it look scratched?"

"No."

"Awesome." I thought for a moment. "There's a needle and some fishing line in there. Same with a small clear-ish bottle. You're going to want those." Jack rummaged around for a minute.

"Got them."

"Great. Set them down in front of me." He did, and I glanced up just enough to see that they were indeed the correct items. Needle, thread, and rubbing alcohol. Now for just one more item. "Go to the fourth upper shelf to the left. There should be a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey in there."

"Why do I need those?"

"Because you're going to pour me a shot, I'm going to drink it, and we're gonna finish this." I thought for a second. "Then I'm probably going to take another shot afterwards."

"Umm… OK." He got up, and I heard a cabinet door open. Glasses clinked, and liquid was poured. He set the glass down in front of me when he was done.

"Hold the hair on the other side of the wound." I requested. He moved to my right side, grasping the bundle lightly in one hand. In one quick movement I threw my head back for the shot. It went down like fire, but it was better than nothing. I returned my head back to it's bowed position. "OK. This is going to be the worst part. You're going to pour the rubbing alcohol over the wound for one second. Afterwards you're going to start stitching the skin on either side of my scalp to either other." I thought for a second. "Dean and Sam showed you what stitches were and how to do them, right?"

"Sam did."

"Awesome. Go for it, then." I gritted my teeth, waiting for the harsh sting to come. After maybe a moment's hesitation it did. I kept myself quiet, though. No need to scare Jack now.

He took his time with the stitches, making sure they were neat and precise. I didn't rush him on those. They needed to be good to make sure they didn't open.

When Jack was finished, I took a deep breath. The pain had dulled out a bit now, thanks to the liquor. "Do… do you still want that other shot?" Jack asked. I shook my head slowly, eyeing the shot glass.

 _"No alcoholism for me. No hopelessness for you."_

 _"Deal."_

I didn't want to risk it. I couldn't hold Dean to standards that I wouldn't hold myself too.

"No." I said firmly. "No, I think I'm good after all."

"Alright." Jack put everything away quietly, leaving me to sit and think. "Kylie," he started to speak when he finished, but I held up a hand.

"If you're about to apologize again, I'm going to throw something." I promised. "Not at you. Just in general."

"OK." He said. "Do you want help up?"

"Sure." I kept the hand up in the air. His grasp was both hesitant and firm, but it was enough to bring me to my feet. I took in a few deep breaths before looking up and forwards. "How do I look?"

"Fine."

"You're lying."

"I'm also quite certain that the honest answer wouldn't be a good one."

"So like crap then, huh?"

"Yes." For a moment, he sounded just like Castiel when he spoke. Cas never told me when I looked in bad shape. He just told me I would be fine, and that the honest answer wasn't one I necessarily needed.

It was a good resemblance, if not a bittersweet one.

"Great." I looked around the kitchen. Behind me there was a new, decently-sized dent in the fridge. That would have to disappear before Sam and Dean got back. The pot with the water had been abandoned to the floor, it's contents spilled out. That, we could clean up now. "I'll get the floor. You mind working on a fresh pot?"

"Do you… Do you want me to…" He was scared to get the words out. In truth, I was scared to say yes. So instead I shrugged.

"It's your choice, Jack. It's entirely your choice."

I cleaned up the water spill quietly while Jack turned on the stove. He fixed himself a cup of hot chocolate, and poured some tea for me. It was nasty and hot and bitter as an old Hunter. It was exactly what I needed.

It wasn't what Jack needed, though. He needed space to practice, and space that didn't have me around.

I left him a list of exercises to practice. Heating up the water. Fixing himself hot chocolate without having to touch anything. Writing with a pencil without the use of his hands. Fixing the dent in the fridge. A few other things.

"You're leaving?" He asked after I handed him the list. I had my Canada backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Not for very long." I promised, offering him a smile. "You need the space to practice more without feeling guilty or scared. I, personally," I looked around at the Bunker. I hadn't really left it since we'd gotten back. "I think I need to get out of here for just a few hours, you know? Give me about an hour to get out of range, and I'll text you if anything changes."

"Where are you going?"

"Just for a drive. Might head up to Omaha and back." It was only, what, a 4 hour drive to Omaha? 8 hours round trip? Perfect amount of time to get out. Perfect amount of time to take a break. I'd be there and back before Sam and Dean even started coming back, and Jack would have the perfect amount of free space to work and practice. "I'll bring back takeout from that Chinese place you like."

"But what if I break something?"

"You won't." I assured him.

"What if something lights on fire?"

"It won't."

"But what if those things do happen?"

"Then fix whatever you broke or sweep it under something else, and put out the fire." I patted him on the shoulder. "Jack, you'll be fine."

"What if…" His voice caught before he finished his sentence. He looked… scared. "What if I do something bad? What if I become bad?" I pursed my lips, setting my bag down.

"Jack, what's the first thing I taught you about magic?" I asked softly.

"Clear the room of anything you might damage?" I thought for a moment, and heard another conversation in my mind.

 _"What was the first thing I taught you?" Crowley asked._

 _"How to draw up a contract with a demon that doesn't involve selling my soul." My response made him pause then. In my mind, I could swear he blinked in surprise._

 _"I believe you technically taught yourself that, but fine."_

"OK, fair enough. What's the second thing I taught you about magic?" I asked.

"Fire."

 _What was the second thing I taught you?" Crowley asked next._

 _"How cast and subsequently rein in fire."_

 _"How to create and destroy. Magic isn't just about fire and destruction and binding and control and death; it is not defined by simple, black and white terms like good or bad. You can work with both parts of the spectrum, in a sense." He hadn't outright said the word intent, but it was implied. Magic was about what I wanted to do with it, not just what it potentially could cause._

"And what determines the purpose of the fire?"

"Intent."

"Then that's how you won't become bad." I replied. "Because your intent is good and pure. You don't want to hurt people, you don't mean to," I felt my head throb a little as I spoke. "But sometimes things happen. It's OK. Your intent is good, you just need the control to make it work." He still looked downtrodden.

"But I keep hurting people and destroying things." He said.

 _"I create things of destruction. All I've done with my magic is destroy."_

"Magic is very much a yin and yang force." As I spoke, I heard Crowley's voice with me. "To create, you must destroy, and vice-versa. You'll mess up. You'll accidentally break things or light things on fire or do the right thing with the wrong consequences or the wrong thing for the right reasons. Nobody is perfect. Magic isn't even perfect. It's all about the person that uses it." I offered Jack a small smile. "You need to be comfortable with yourself in magic, and accept that this is who you are. You're Jack Kline. You're a Nephilim. You like hot chocolate." That got a small smirk out of him. "And you have powers that you have a right to know how to use." He looked me in the eyes, that same childlike expression of hope on his face. "I'm coming back, I promise. I'm just giving you the space you need to exercise that right."

"OK." He agreed. "OK. I'll do it."

"Good." I ruffled his hair a little, picking back up the backpack. "I'll be back in a few hours. Call me if you need me or have a question."

"OK." He repeated. He sounded nervous, but at the same time more self-assured. I believed that he would do what he needed to do to get control of his powers.

"I'll tell you when I'm on the way back."

"You'll pick up Chinese food?" I laughed a little.

"Yeah, I'll pick up Chinese food. You want the same thing from last time?"

"Can I get what you got? I liked the noodles, but the Kung Pao was very spicy."

"Gotcha covered." I offered the Nephilim a hug, and he embraced me whole-heartedly.

"Thank you." He muttered. "I feel as though I needed to hear those words from you."

I drove off in Castiel's old truck. Mine was still with Jody, after all, and in all honesty it felt right to be back in Castiel's ride. It made me feel happy. It felt familiar.

I turned on the stereo, and flipped through the tracks from his tape until I found the one I wanted.

 ** _Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face_**

 ** _And stars fill my dream_**

 _I'd felt like I was my own fire, when I could cast. I'd done whatever it was I wanted or needed to. I dreamed in magic. I lived and breathed magic._

 ** _I'm a traveler of both time and space_**

 ** _To be where I have been_**

 _Teleporting wherever I wanted to go. If I'd wanted to in the past, I could've just imagined Omaha and been there. I knew I'd given Jack the city name, but I wasn't certain if that was really where I wanted to travel to._

 ** _To sit with elders of the gentle race_**

 ** _This world has seldom seen_**

 _Crowley helped a lot. Billie and Rowena did a lot too, don't get me wrong, but Crowley taught me more than just magic. He taught me that I didn't just have to be bad; that nothing was set in stone as good or bad, no matter what. It was rare to see a sentimental Reaper, or a fearful witch, or a kind demon, but I saw all three. They were my teachers. They were who I could call on, and did at one point or another._

 ** _They talk of days for which they sit and wait_**

 ** _All will be revealed_**

 _They'd been patient with me, in their own ways. Reaper had been patient because death was always patient. Rowena had been patient because she knew I was more powerful, and she wanted to use me in the long run. Crowley had been patient because… I didn't know. Demons weren't normally patient, but Crowley was in good and in bad. He was eternally patient, and always plotting in the interim._

 _None of them had ever said there was a specific day when information would be revealed to me, but one by one that day came. For all of them, in one way or another, it came with the day of their deaths._

I wished I could talk to all of them now, to get their advice on how to teach Jack. But they weren't here. It was just me.

All I could do was hope I was using their teachings in a way that would make them proud.


	17. Send Me Back

"What did..." Castiel was still reeling from whatever the being had done to him, and his mind was a mess of memories all jumbled together. "What did you do to me?"

"I read your mind, such as it is." The entity smirked a little as he answered, as though his response should've been obvious.

In the short span of hindsight it was, Castiel had to admit that the answer should've at least been his first guess. But the feeling of what had been done… Kylie had done something similar to him, Castiel had done the same thing countless times, and it had never felt quite as invasive and perverse as what the entity had done. "What do you want?" He asked instead.

"What do I want?" The being pretended to muse on that for a moment. "I want you to shut up. I want… Hmm…" It tapped its chin with its index finger. "Having you awake, it's like a gnat flew right up here and it's trapped and it's buzzing."

Castiel summarized his words with ease. "Having me awake causes you pain."

"If you can't sleep, I can't sleep. Yeah?" The entity pressed his hands to his face. "And I like sleep. I need sleep."

"Then get rid of me." Castiel could feel an idea forming in his mind as he said those words, one he fervently hoped wouldn't backfire on him.

"Oh, I should, should I?" The entity asked. Castiel nodded, fighting the urge to smile just a little.

"Send me back to Earth."

"Or," the entity countered. "I throw you so deep into the Empty that you can't bother me anymore, hmm?" Castiel thought on that for a moment, and chose to take a gamble.

"Except you know that won't work," Castiel challenged. "Or you would've done it already." The entity glared at him for a moment, and Castiel felt relief. He was right. He was absolutely right.

"Pretty smart," it acknowledged. "Pretty smart, dummy. Did the human girl teach you that?" At those words, Castiel gritted his teeth. Of course the entity had seen her in his mind. Why wouldn't it have? But reminding Castiel of her only reminded him of why he needed to go back.

She was on the ground. She was bleeding profusely, appearing to have multiple wounds manifest on her person out of nowhere. Stab wounds, bullet holes, broken bones and scratches and scrapes and years upon years worth of pain seeming to compound upon her person at that very moment. She was alive, but she wouldn't be for long if he didn't do something.

He had to go back. He had to do something.

"Send. Me. Back."

"That's not part of the deal. No, no." The other thing shook its head as it spoke. "Besides, you don't want to go back."

"Yes, I do. Kylie needs me. I made her a promise." I love you. Yes Cas, I'll marry you. Just make it out of this, OK?

"Oh, save it!" The entity ordered. "I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings, yes. I know what you hate." He leaned in close, whispering to Castiel now. "I know who you love… what you fear. There is nothing for you back there. No. Here, let me show you." He pressed his hand to Castiel's forehead again, and once more he was bombarded with memories of his past. Every mistake he ever made, every time someone he cared about ended up hurt or injured or almost dead…

Brethren angels dying all around him, dying by his hand.

Dean, broken and bleeding from his fists.

Sam, nearing insanity from his own pride.

The last time he'd seen Kylie, looking for all the world like she was near death herself.

Every single time another had been hurt, every single time Castiel's mistakes had been paid for at the cost of others, every single failure or act of rage or pride or hubris he had ever committed…

The process felt as though it was taking forever, and when Castiel roused himself from it he was laying flat on the ground. But he was still awake. He was still there. He could still fight.

He could keep going. He could earn a chance to make up for his mistakes once more.

"Come on, Castiel!" He could hear the entity croon above him. "Wouldn't you rather be a fond memory than a constant, festering disappointment? Hmm?" Castiel felt a foot connect solidly with his ribs, and he needed a second to catch his breath. "Wouldn't you rather stay here instead of go back to all your failures? So let's lay down. Let's just try and sleep. Hmm? Think about it. Infinite peace, yes? No regrets. No pain. Kiddo, save yourself."

 _ **CAS! CAS GET UP!**_ He could hear her voice in his mind, as clear as a bell. _Please. Please don't. Cas, please. Come back. Come back to me please, Castiel._

 _Cas, I need you. Cas, please just come back. I need you. I love you._

"I'm already saved." Castiel argued. He felt another kick meet his ribs, but he bit back the pain as he stood. "You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. I am awake, I have purpose to remain so, and I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane." That time, the entity aimed a punch towards his jaw. Castiel took it willingly. "I will stay awake." Castiel threatened. "Because I have every reason to; because of the friends I left behind and because of the human woman you saw in my memories." Castiel smiled a little. Kylie had come back countless times for him – to save him and be with him and for them to be together. He could do that for her. "I will stay awake until you send me back, because she is the one person I want to get back to more than anyone else. I promised her I would be there, that I would make it out with her, and -" The entity cut him off then.

"And how do you know that she's alive?" The being asked, raising a cocky eyebrow to him. "I know you don't know. I've seen what you saw, and I have seen the shape she was in before you arrived here." Castiel couldn't help but remember that last time he'd seen her again, before he'd died. He couldn't help but visualize that paleness on her face, the tiredness in her eyes. "So how do you know that you won't just be returning to another grave, hmm? Except this one will be so much more real?" Castiel reached in to his pocket then, a habit he had picked up when they had been away. He was reaching for the one thing that would prove his reasoning to be worth it, the one thing that had kept reminding him that he was making the right choice and that she would be alright.

He could feel it when he grasped it; feel the warmth of the rock in his pocket. Somehow, against all odds, he still had it. But more importantly, it was still warm.

She was still alive.

Castiel smiled, feeling more certain of his gamble than ever now. "This is how I know." He replied, holding the rock out to the being. It looked at the rock strangely, and snatched it out of his hands quicker than Castiel could stop the being.

"How does this exist?" The thing asked, throwing it back at Castiel. He stumbled in catching it but did, and felt that the rock was still burning with warmth. "How do you have that?"

"I had it when I died." Castiel answered. "I… I was holding on to it when I was stabbed." In truth, he was. He'd reached for it the second he'd seen her, to make sure that she was still alive.

"That shouldn't matter." The being declared, glaring at the object again. "It only exists because you want to believe she's still alive, because you want it to exist as reason for you to continue to bother me and keep me from my sleep."

"If that was the case, why do you not know why it's here?" Castiel asked. The being didn't answer, and Castiel held up the rock again. "This is my proof that somewhere, somehow, she is alive. Somewhere, she is fine. Somewhere, back on Earth," he shook it once more before placing it back in his pocket. "She lives. She's alive and well, and I made her a promise I intend on keeping. So you're going to send me back, and do it now, or else I will stay awake with you for eternity," Castiel smiled a little bit at that. "And I will do it because the woman I love is still alive. She's alive, and that's the only reason I need to stay awake; for her." Castiel stared the thing dead in the eyes, smiling. "You've searched through my memories. I believe that you understand how important that singular human is to me. You know that I will do whatever is necessary to get back to her again. I will fight you. I will keep fighting you and staying awake for eternity, just to see her one last time."

"No." The being shook its head, looking incensed. "No! Stop it! Just go back to sleep already!"

"Release me." Castiel's voice was confident, and at the same time as solid as steel. "Release… me."

"FINE!" The being screeched, shoving his hands out towards Castiel. The angel found himself propelled backwards, farther and farther and farther from the entity until he fell through the darkness surrounding him. But for just a moment… The creature started to change. It started to look different.

He fell for what felt like an eternity before he woke up, surrounded by a field and sunlight. He looked down at his own body, smiling a little before turning his head to the sun. He grasped the rock in his pocket tightly, enjoying the warmth he felt on his face.

"I'm coming for you, Kylie." He whispered. "I made you a promise, and I'm going to keep it."


	18. Bittersweet Feelings

I stopped for gas when I hit the Kansas/Nebraska border, and got a ping on my phone as I did. Probably just Jack making sure I was well out of range. I was thankful he understood.

I almost dropped it when I saw who it was from.

Crowley.

It was an email.

"You bastard." I muttered, hitting the six on my speed dial. However when I called, I got his voicemail.

"Hello, this is the Hell Helpline. For demon deals, press one. For information on that red-headed bitch Rowena, press two. For all other inquiries, press three." I pressed three angrily.

"I swear to God Crowley, I can and will kill you myself." I gritted my teeth, listening further.

"I'm sorry, but the number you have dialed has been disconnected. Goodbye." The line went dead, and I stared at the phone in a mix of anger and disbelief.

"Fine, you wanna play that game? Let's play that game." I finished fueling, and drove over to a small nearby diner. They had free WiFi. If Crowley wanted to play the email game, I'd play the email game.

Once I sat down I pulled up my email. I was goddamn determined to see what in the hell this dickhead was up to where he couldn't answer my damn call. I opened up the email angrily, but as I read it… The anger faded away.

 _Dear Kylie,_

 _If you're reading this, then you're probably calling me a bastard for leaving you to think I was dead. If you called, I'm sorry, but I won't be answering._

 _I actually can die, you know._

 _This email will go to you automatically if I do not input a password to stop it being sent. You called me not too long ago to tell me what was happening, so I set this up before coming to meet you in Washington. I've been working at the spell you wrote since you and the Winchesters left, and I believe I know what it's for. You have a knack for creating what you need, and this time you've really gone and out-done yourself._

 _It's to close a door that should never have been opened. I don't know what this entails, but I know that it isn't something good. It's a very powerful spell, one of the most powerful ones I've ever seen you create. It's no wonder that you didn't understand what it was mean to do, I didn't even fully understand this spell until I fully examined what it would require. And with your call involving something that could break the universe… I have good reason to believe that this spell of yours is what we'll need._

 _At this point, if you're reading this, then I believe you understand why I'm bringing all of this up. The life that I have learned this spell requires, along with the angelic grace... I know where you would get those ingredients from._

 _I know that you aren't the kind of person who would ask another to give either of these things in the name of closing this door, you aren't ruthless enough for that. I know that you will do both of these parts yourself, if the opportunity arises for you to sacrifice yourself._

 _If you've gotten this message, then I hopefully stopped you from sacrificing everything. However in doing that, then I sacrificed myself in your place. I want you to know that I don't regret the choice. I knew that I would be making this choice the second you told me you may die in the process of doing whatever we are about to do, because you were right – this is my fault. Lucifer coming for this child is my fault, and if there is anything I can do to rectify this choice then I will accomplish it._

 _You told me that I didn't care, that preserving your life wasn't enough of a way to show that I cared about the repercussions of my actions. There was a point in my life that I would have agreed with you, because as I said demons don't care. But I'm not a demon anymore, not fully. Humanity has too much of a grip on me to ever allow my return to who I was._

 _There is more that I wish I had the time to tell you, but I need to leave soon to help you. The directions to the cabin are at the bottom of this email, in case you need them. The place is yours, and is paid out for the next hundred years. There is also bank information that I wish for you to access, when you have the time. I won't need the money anymore._

 _You were always my legacy, Kylie. Do it justice._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Your Favorite Demon, The Resigning King of Hell, Crowley_

 _P.S. Don't tell the Wondertwins that I can be sentimental. It's bad for image._

 _P.P.S. Don't replace me with another demon. That's just a lack of class._

 _P.P.P.S. Make my funeral a good one, alright?_

I fought back tears after reading it. The excerpt was short, but then again I didn't really need it to be any longer than that. Crowley did what he could in the time he had. That was all I could ask for.

"You bastard." I muttered again, this time smiling as I said the words. "You complete and utter son-of-a-bitch bastard. Why did you always have to have your own side plans?"

My choice was clear, then. I called Sam and told him something had come up and that I was heading to the Cabin. I called Jack and told him the same (but also not to worry, it wasn't his fault, it was personal). From there, I drove myself to the cabin, determined to make it by the end of the day. I'd driven there only once before, and Crowley's instructions started at the Bunker, but I could still hop on the highway he mentioned and go from there. It took an extra few hours, but it was worth it to get back. Crowley had really chosen a good out of the way place.

I stopped about a half mile from where it was supposed to be, deciding to walk the rest of the way. I hadn't really done that before, but today… I don't know. I just kind of wanted to see what it would be like to walk up now.

Whenever I'd been here before, I didn't really see what was around me, not in the conventional sense. I knew it was there, I knew it existed, but… I saw what could be done with it instead. I saw a tree I could fall from and subsequently stop myself before I hit the ground. I saw space for practicing and spellwork. I saw my own personal workshop, or perhaps safe haven. I saw the spells that the wood could go in to, the different purposes of the leaves, the everything. I could understand a little bit of what Chuck created, in a way that made sense to me in terms of magic.

Now when I looked around… I saw trees. I saw leaves. I saw decent places for people to hide if they needed to. I saw a forest, like any other. I remember the way I'd used the space around me and how it felt as though I could connect to it, but in terms of actually being able to do it again… I didn't know how.

It was just a forest. I could run. I could climb, but I needed to be careful of how high I went so I didn't fall and hurt myself. I could take time to build a campfire with my own hands. I could probably work on some fighting techniques in terms of a wooded area, but… That was it. I couldn't see the magic in it anymore.

It was as though it just… wasn't there anymore. And I knew that wasn't true, there was no way that it all just didn't exist anymore, but at the same time I couldn't feel it.

To me, it wasn't there anymore.

"I didn't even know what I was missing out on before," I muttered, remembering how none of this even mattered to me before I was a witch. And when I was one… It was just a part of me, and I knew it was there, but it was like walking. Now that I couldn't feel it, it was like I'd lost a part of my senses. "What do I do now?" On instinct, I looked beside me for an answer. I didn't know who exactly I was looking for, be it Crowley or Castiel or Sam or Dean or even T.J. or Karma… but when I realized that nobody was there, it settled in me like a boulder over my heart.

I chose to come alone, but then again my choices for who to come with were pretty limited. Sam was back at the Bunker with Jack (and I wasn't certain if I wanted to bring Jack here just yet), and Dean was out on a hunt. Everybody else that I could have with me or even felt comfortable having with me, were dead.

"All my friends are dead." I whispered. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, I couldn't help but wonder again why I wasn't too; why Jack had saved me.

When I came up to the cabin, it looked just as it always did. I took a few slow and cautious steps inside, for some reason unable to speak once I entered the place. It didn't feel right to, not yet. If I spoke… Whatever was left here, quietly preserved, would flee. I looked over at the chessboard, and from there up in to the small hole that was left from when I impaled the… Was it the bishop?

No, the knight; the black knight. I'd been frustrated and had a poor sense of control. Crowley used my emotions to teach me how to better reign in myself.

The board was still set up, just as it had been when we'd last left it. It was always prepared for the next game. Crowley had been particular about that. Always be ready for the next person to challenge you. Always be ready.

I looked over at the curtains next, smiling a little. They were pulled back, letting natural light shine through. These were the replacements after I'd lit the second set of replacements on fire. First time I'd done it was when I was learning how to light a candle. Second time I'd done it was trying to find God. Third time I'd done it, I was so pissed at Crowley…

I'd be replacing them this time if they bit the dust again. I looked away from them after that, for some reason unable to keep myself focused on that thought. It just didn't feel right.

I walked over to the back, to the only bedroom in the place. Crowley never really slept. He was a demon, he didn't have to. So the room was kinda mine. Some of Amara's old cast-offs were still there, along with clothes that were mine. It was still an odd thought, knowing that at one point in my life I had literally worn the former clothes of God's sister.

I hadn't kept any personal items in the room other than the clothes, though. Sometimes the chessboard was in my room, but where it was now, on the table… I preferred it there. It felt better for it to be there.

I took a look at the small bathroom, and remembered when I almost cracked the mirror. My hair had been vibrant red, then, and I had to physically focus on not letting my emotions react to my environment. I almost wished I had done it, now – some sort of physical proof of what I had been able to do.

But there was no proof, save for the ingredients in the small kitchen and the notebooks I still had stashed. The curtains had been replaced, the mirror wasn't broken, but the hole…

There was the small hole in the ceiling, from the chess piece. That was it. That was the only physical change to this place that still remained, the only one that showed what I had been able to do, at one point.

I started gathering my notebooks, deciding it would be better to leave the ingredients here. I didn't really have a use for them, anymore.

I took a look out towards what could be considered the backyard, a small clearing in the woods that I'd played games and practiced in. I remembered when I was first figuring out how to levitate, or teleport myself. The goal was to fall from the roof, stop myself before I hit the ground, and afterwards just kind of appear back on the roof again. It was a mix of an exercise Crowley was having me do and an exercise in what I could do. Crowley wanted me to practice teleporting short distances. I wanted to see if I could stop myself from falling through sheer force of will.

I'd moved my damn bed outside to do this, and had done it all day. I had thought that I'd fallen asleep outside, but I'd woken up back in my room the next day. I hadn't seen Crowley at all then, but now… Now I couldn't help but wonder if I had fallen asleep outside, and if he hadn't dragged my sleeping self and my bed back in.

The more I looked around, the more memories I saw, but at the same time… They were overwhelming. I lived here. I'd thrived here. This was my safe haven, my home, like how the Bunker was to Sam and Dean. This was where I became me.

"And this is where I came after it was all gone." I reminded myself. I wasn't quite certain how to feel about that. On one hand, I was happy to be here because I had been afraid I wouldn't be back here again. On the other hand, though… It felt so weird to be back. I felt like I was a trespasser, in a sense; like I wasn't supposed to be here now that I wasn't even close to who I used to be.

I put all the notebooks in a plastic bag, and let out a small breath. I missed this place, either way. I missed it more than I cared to admit, and I knew that I'd be back at some point. But for right now… It would be hard to come back. There was too much that I missed when I was here, even though I missed being here in general.

But I wasn't quite exactly the kind of person that this place deserved, not anymore. This place deserved somebody who could bring it to life, who could keep the tradition and spirit of its magic alive. I couldn't do that anymore.

I knew I would be back, but I just wasn't quite certain as to when.

I took my stuff back to the car, enjoying one more look at my surroundings as I went. It all still looked normal, but at the same time…

I wished I could still see how everything looked before, when I could appreciate it; just so I could really take everything in and see it all one more time. I knew that what I was asking for would never exist, but I couldn't help but wish it could still happen.

I pursed my lips, taking a look at the woods and remembering everything about the cabin. No. There were no laws to the universe that said I couldn't get that feeling back again, or that I couldn't regain my powers. Imbued with angelic grace or not, I could still get something back eventually. It was in my blood. It was a part of my heritage, my family.

I could get it back, damn it. I could and at some point, I would.

And on the day I did, I would come back. I nodded once more at the forest, the action firm and decisive.

I put everything in the shotgun seat of the car, thought for a moment, and went back inside one more time. I just… I wasn't certain what it was I needed. Maybe just to walk in one more time. Maybe just to look at it all again, to remember what I was working back towards.

Maybe just to remind myself I wasn't saying goodbye. Not this time. I was just saying "until next time."

It felt good, not saying goodbye for once.

I stood in the small kitchen, smiling. This was Crowley's first and last gift to me- a home. He gave me somewhere I could consider my own; a sanctuary and a safe haven and a place I could come and consider myself comfortable. He gave me a place to learn and grow; a place to understand what it was like to be me and how to accept that.

The demon that had tried for years to capture and kill me gave me the exact opposite – freedom and life.

I would come back, maybe even with Jack, and bring back that life that this place deserved. I would do that someday, and hopefully someday soon.

"Thanks, Crowley." I smiled, patting the countertop lightly. I took one last look at the curtains. If they burnt again, I'd be replacing them.

If I brought Jack here, and he accidently killed the curtains, I'd be the one replacing them this time.

The thought didn't feel as heavy when I looked at it that way. It felt almost… Like I was a part of a circular cycle, and that would be finishing it. It felt like I would be doing something right for those that had gotten me this far.

"Thank you for everything." This time I spoke to the cabin, and it felt right. This place had been good to me. It had been the one place where nothing I did was necessarily good or bad, right or wrong. Everything had just been… just been me. It had just been me figuring things out, and being alright with the way it fell. It had been where I truly understood what I was doing, and just that kind of inner freedom made me feel so much better.

Yeah. I could come back. I could bring Jack. He'd like it here too. It'd be a good start, a fresh and new start. I could keep moving, here. I could remember what it was like to be me, and be alright with where I was at.

Hopefully, it could be that for Jack too.

I turned around, smiling a little as I thought of that. History would almost be repeating itself, in that case. Except this time Jack would be me and I would be Crowley. But that was OK. Everything was going to be OK.

Every single good and happy and calm thought disappeared the instant I made eye contact with the person behind me. "No." I took seven quick steps backwards, my blood cold and filled with terror. "No. You're not real. You're dead." I felt my breath quicken in fear as I looked at him. I'd helped the brothers and Mary dump his body in a river, even. I'd promised I'd kill him. I'd been thankful to know he was dead. I had felt as though at least a part of my nightmare was over.

And now it was back, full force. Now it was a living, breathing, waking nightmare.

"Don't you wish?" Ketch asked, taking a lazy step towards me. "I've been waiting for you to come back here. I was actually waiting in the back seat of your admittedly beautiful vehicle," I felt even colder at those words. I hadn't even noticed him. How had I not noticed him?! "But when you walked back inside this place I couldn't help but decide to come in too." I took short, shallow breaths, examining my options. There was one door, and that was behind him. Any window would need to be opened, and he would more than likely get to me before I crawled through. Granted there was the bedroom behind me, but if I locked myself in there then he could easily just run around and wait for me at the window. As for fighting… I'd left my blades in the car. I'd actually left them in the back seat.

I had no good escape, and Ketch knew it.

"Wonderful to see you again, by the way." Ketch commented. "Did you miss me?" I refused to answer, instead trying to think fast. I needed a way out, any way out whatsoever. I needed a miracle.

I honestly needed witch powers; powers I didn't have.

However, Ketch really didn't need to know that.

"Stay back." I ordered, raising a hand as firmly and menacingly as possible. Ketch, for his credit, didn't advance. He also didn't look worried. I still had to try. It was my only shot of getting out of here. "We both know what I can do, so I'm going to give you one chance right now. Walk. The Fuck. Away." I gritted my teeth. "Or else I'm following through on that promise I made you."

"Hmmm…" Ketch tapped a finger against his chin, pantomiming the idea of thinking. He shook his head a second later. I honestly feared the smile on his face. "No. I think I'm good." He extended his arms outwards, maintaining eye contact. "Do your worst. Free shot, just for you."

I thought, remembering what was in the nearby vicinity. What was I next to?

Windows. The curtains I'd destroyed a few times, framing glass windows.

I was certain I could break through windows. I had to be able to break through windows.

I turned fast, launching myself over the circular table and straight at those windows in the smallest ball I could curl up in. Somehow, I broke through. Once I hit the ground I rolled a few times before jumping to my feet. I could hear Ketch pounding after me, but I was ahead. I was closest to the car. I could make it. I had to make it.

I sprinted for all I was worth, fumbling for my phone in my pocket. I had to call Sam. I had to call Dean. I had to warn them. They had to know.

I slid in to the driver's seat before I could dial, and reached for the keys. I'd left them in the ignition. I knew I had.

Yet they weren't there.

Ketch had been in the backseat. He probably had the keys.

I turned to the door, preparing to open it, and saw Ketch standing right outside. He held up the keys in his fingers. "Nice try." He commented, yanking the door open.

"NO!" My voice was a shrill screech as I kicked out at him. He caught my legs and looped them under his arm. "NO! LET ME GO YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" I struggled against his hold, but that was all I could do. I couldn't get my legs free. I couldn't defend myself. I couldn't do anything.

"We'll talk more later." Ketch promised, cocking his free hand back. I felt it connect solidly with my face for only a moment, and then I was out.


	19. Cas is Back

Castiel came back to the Winchesters with pride. He had come back. He had done it once more, for them.

And for Kylie.

She had been his first call, but… She didn't answer. "Hey! If you know who this is then you know what to do." _Beep._

"Kylie, I… I'm back." He said, clutching the rock in his pocket. It was still warm. She was still alive. She probably was just busy. "I'm going to call Dean next but… Kylie I'm back. I came back. I can't wait to see you. I promise you, it's real. I'm here." He hung up then, unable to fight a smile. She was alive. She was honestly probably busy. Sam and Dean would answer, and would know where she was.

Dean answered on the third ring, not quite believing it was him for a moment. But they still came to pick him up.

"Cas, is that really you?" Dean asked. They stood away from him, but not by much. Castiel wished that Kylie was with them. She would prove it with ease.

"No. You're… you're dead." Sam stated.

"Yeah, I was." They'd said these lines so many times to each other, but each time it was always a sense of wonderment that they could come back. "But then I... annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back." The brothers laughed a little at that.

"I don't even know what to say." Sam admitted.

"I do." Dean replied. "Welcome home, pal." Dean hugged him tightly, as did Sam. The both of them looked overjoyed to see him. It was… It felt right. It felt like Castiel was back home, for the most part.

"You're alive." Dean stated. Castiel nodded, smiling.

"I am." He agreed.

"You…" He shook his head. "You're one son of a bitch, you know that?" He said the words with a smile, though.

"I do tend to be that way, I guess." Castiel agreed. "Where is Kylie?" Both brothers stilled a little at those words. "What? Is she alright?" Castiel started to worry. She hadn't answered her phone. Had something happened to her after all?

"No, no, she's fine." Sam assured him. "She's just… She's on temporary leave."

"Why is that?"

"She left to go to the Cabin." Dean explained. "We got a text from her not too long ago saying that she was planning on staying there for a while."

"Then call her!" Castiel insisted. "One of you hand me your phone. I'll call her from them and she'll teleport to meet us here, or maybe at the Bunker."

"If we call her now she might meet us at the Bunker," Sam said. "But it could take her another hour or two for her to get there after us."

"Why? She can just appear there, can't she? Or did you re-ward the Bunker?" A dark thought crossed Castiel's mind. "You two didn't," before he could finish, Sam and Dean adamantly shook their heads.

"No, no, no, we didn't give her the boot. She's family. We wouldn't do that to her." There was an unspoken _again_ in Dean's words.

"Then what has happened?"

"She…" Sam looked a little uncomfortable at that question, as did Dean. Sam looked over at his brother for assistance.

"She's human, Cas." Dean said.

"Of course she is. I wouldn't expect her to be anything else." Castiel agreed.

"No, no, no Cas." Dean said. "We mean she… She's completely human." Castiel could feel the truth start to dawn on him more as Dean spoke. "She's not a witch anymore. She used the last of her magic locking up Lucifer, and can't use it anymore. She can't even be around Jack when he starts using his mojo without getting awful headaches."

"Jack?" Castiel asked. "The child? He is still alive?"

"Alive and well." Sam promised. "He's back at the Bunker. Kylie has actually been working with him on improving his powers."

"Why is she in Utah then?"

"She left to go get a few things and decided that she wanted to hole up there for a while." Dean explained. "She's… She's trying to figure out how she fits in the world again, without her powers."

Castiel wasn't certain how to react to all of that. On one hand, he was overjoyed. Kylie was still alive and well. Jack was alive. Lucifer was gone.

But on the other side, Kylie had paid a terrible cost. She had lost her powers. But… How?

Unless…

"Did she…" Castiel took a breath. "The spell she did, what did it require?" Sam looked extremely uncomfortable at that question. When Cas turned to Dean, the other Hunter didn't look any better.

"You should ask Kylie this stuff." Sam finally said.

"She's not answering her phone." Cas replied curtly. He hated to be unhappy with the brothers when he had just been reunited with them, but at the same time he was just so worried. Kylie should've answered her phone. She didn't have her powers now, apparently. What else did she no longer have?

For a moment, Castiel saw her in the back of his mind. She was broken. She was bleeding. She couldn't stand. She looked as though she would die very soon. There had been too many incidents where that had been the case, and she had been so close to death.

Castiel gripped the rock in his pocket again. Its warmth brought him a small amount of comfort. She was alive.

Sam wandered a small distance away, raising his phone to his ear. Dean, in turn, placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Hey, we're calling her right now, OK?"

"What did the spell require?" Castiel repeated.

"You don't want us to tell you." Dean answered.

"I need you to tell me, Dean." Castiel had to know. He knew she was alive, but… He had to know what the cost was.

Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Angelic grace." He finally admitted. "Angelic grace and a life, willingly given."

If Castiel were human, he would say that in those seconds that Dean spoke he could feel his own heart stop. If he were human, he would feel his mind racing with fear and worry as to what the repercussions of a human losing angelic grace would be. If he were human, he would be searching for a word stronger than worried or afraid or terrified to describe how he felt for Kylie at that moment.

But he wasn't human. He was an angel; one that was still in love with what he could only describe as the most brave and stubborn human he'd ever met.

So he felt his own heart stop. He felt his mind race with dread at the thoughts of what the ramifications would be. He sought for a word in his mind stronger than dread (Anguish? Uncertainty? Woe?) and found nothing that described his emotions.

"She gave up the angelic grace inside her." Castiel said quietly. Dean nodded.

"Crowley gave the life." He added. Sam glanced over at them, still looking uncertain.

"She probably doesn't have any service out there." Sam said. Castiel didn't know whether that was correct or not, but he hoped it was. Dean offered a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"She'll be back, Cas. Once she learns you're alive she'll sprint back." The promise felt reassuring, but still… Castiel just wished she was here. "Hey man, sometimes she does this. We're all used to it at this point, I think." Dean wasn't wrong with that. "She just needs time. She's been doing her best to come to terms with everything, and it's been hard. It's been hard for all of us." The brothers shared a quick glance. "But it'll get better. We just need to give it some time."

"Alright." Cas agreed. Just a little time. Kylie was just… Just figuring things out for herself. Castiel gripped the rock in his pocket once more, finding more comfort in it's warmth. She was fine. She was alive. She was just taking a short leave of absence.

And Jack was back at the Bunker, he had to remember that too. He'd worked hard to preserve that Nephilim's chance at life. He wanted to go and see him. Kylie was strong. She was resilient.

She would come back on her own. She always did.

Castiel couldn't help but feel a little uncertain in those words, though.


	20. False Pretense

_"Kylie," I froze the second I heard that voice, looking up from my stacks of books. I didn't dare turn around, though. I was too afraid to. "I… I'm back."_

 _"You're dead." I stated, my voice dry and hollow. "I burned you."_

 _"I'm back."_

 _"You're dead."_

 _"But I'm not." I heard footsteps, followed by a hand on my shoulder. I glanced over to see his ring, on his hand. "Please turn around, Kylie. I'm here. I'm alive."_

 _"I burned you." I repeated, refusing to look. I had to hold fast to that fact, to what I remembered as clear as a bell. I helped Dean wrap him and Kelly in curtains. I said my goodbyes. I burned him._

 _I watched him die. I watched him go up in flames._

 _"I know." He replied. "Dean told me."_

 _"Then you're not real." I stated, pushing his hand off my shoulder. "You're either a shape-shifter or Asmodeus or something else, but you're not him. You don't come back from burning. You don't come back from that at all."_

 _"Mary did." He pointed out. "When Amara brought her back." I felt my breath hitch slightly, acknowledging the fact that he was right._

 _"Amara is gone." I stated, returning to what I knew. "And so is God. Family meeting, no children allowed. You're dead. You're not real." I wanted to beg for death, to challenge this impersonator to kill me, but the words wouldn't quite form for some reason._

 _"God has brought me back before," he reminded me. "Even when he wasn't a present force, and when we all thought him gone, I was still brought back. It's me, Kylie." The promises sounded so sweet, so believable. "It's me. Please, turn around and look at me."_

 _I felt my breathing get more erratic, my brain fighting to either accept the possibility or reject it entirely, but not being able to decide on a course. I wanted it to be true. I wanted him to be alive. I wanted him to be real._

 _"If it's you," I finally said. "Tell me something only you know I would know."_

 _"You threw away the plan." He said those words almost automatically. "The one you wrote down, the one I said. You threw it away, because you thought I had given up on it, but I retrieved it out of the trash can. I hadn't given up yet." That same hand that had rested on my shoulder found its way to my own hand, with nimble fingers intertwining in mine. "Please, Kylie. I'm here. I'm really here. Please turn around."_

 _I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a single tear fall to the ground._

 _"You're not real." I whispered again, grasping his hand even tighter. I could feel the ring around his hand, the warm kind of cold only metal feels like. I could feel his hand, feel the roughness in it. I could feel his warmth behind me, waiting for me to turn and take my place wrapped in his arms. I wanted him to be real so, so badly._

 _But I was afraid to see it was fake._

 _"It's OK, Kylie." He assured me. "It's OK, I promise. I'm here for you. I'm never going to leave you again." I stood up at those words, my eyes still clenched tightly closed. I could almost hear the kindness in his voice, smell the scent of cheap aftershave and whatever laundry detergent he used on his overcoat and a different scent I could only describe as celestial lavender. Every sense I had was telling me he was there, he was real. I only had to turn around and see him. I reached my other hand blindly backwards, looking for his overcoat with my other hand. I gripped the fabric tightly the second my fingers made contact, finally allowing my eyes to open. I let go, smiling brightly._

 _"Cas?" I asked, spinning around to finally look at him._

I woke up, gripping Castiel's ring tightly. It was still in its place on the chain around my neck.

It was just a dream.

It was just another dream, and probably one of the worst.

I just wanted it to be real. I wished with every fiber of my being that it was.

"Kylie?!" Dean's voice jarred me to reality. I sat up straight and was instantly treated to a massive headache. Was Jack nearby? Was he using his powers?

Wait. Where in the hell was I?

I looked around, realizing I was on a hard dirt floor. There were iron bars in front of me, all around me in fact. I was in a cell? When had I ended up in a cell?

Wait, focus here. Focus. Dean was still shouting for me. Dean and Sam.

"GUYS?!" I shouted back.

"Kylie!" Sam again. I heard footsteps. Loud, determined ones. "Dean she's down here! She's this way!" I second later I saw Sam come in to view, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked the Hunter, smiling a little.

"Actually, Hell." Sam replied. "Ketch got you. Come on, we've gotta go. They've got Jack in here somewhere and we need you to track him."

"Wait, how and why did Ketch bring me to Hell?" I asked, looking around. Yeah, this was definitely Hell. Specifically, the nicer part of Hell's jail cells. This was where Crowley put prisoners that he knew would break easy, or demons that he wanted to have on display for an example. But why was I here?

"We think he's working with Asmodeus." Sam replied, reaching in to his pocket. He pulled out a set of keys. "Come on, we need to find Jack."

"When did he get Jack?!"

"We don't know." He started fiddling with the keys in the lock, trying to figure out which one would fit.

"How long have I been here?"

"A few months." I almost couldn't believe that. The last thing I remembered was Ketch… How had I been here for so long? I didn't even remember anything else.

"How in the hell have I been in, well, HELL for months?!" I exclaimed. "And…" I rubbed my head again, feeling a bump on the side. GOD, my head was killing me. "I think Jack is nearby."

"Really?" Sam asked, stopping with the keys.

"Yeah." I winced again. The headache was bad, really bad. I was certain that it was Jack nearby, but… it felt different. Weirder. "I think I can feel him."

"How?!" I raised my eyes, pointing to my forehead.

"Power headaches, remember?" I asked. "It feels different, but that could just be from being in Hell or something. I'm pretty certain it's Jack." I winced, realizing that it would only get worse the closer I got to the Nephilim. "If it's this bad now, he's gotta be working some serious stuff. You'll have to help me the closer we get to him." I stopped, realizing that someone was missing. "Where's Dean? I heard him with you earlier."

"He's on the lookout for Ketch." Sam assured me. "Come on, we need to find Jack."

"Do you have any idea on where in here he is?"

"I was actually hoping you could do some sort of spell." Sam admitted, starting to fiddle with the lock again.

"Sam, I can't." I said. "I'm sorry."

"We can't track Jack on headaches alone." Sam replied. "We need you to try, Kylie." I thought for a moment, then pursed my lips.

"Alright." I agreed. "I need… I need a spell." I closed my eyes, trying to remember any sort of tracking spell. I could just barely remember one of the ones I'd used for Metatron… Or was it Amara?... but I wasn't certain if it would work. I didn't even remember it in full.

"What do you mean you need a spell?!" The Hunter exclaimed.

"We've been through this, Sam." I pointed out. "We've been through all of this."

"Yeah, but…" He stopped, thinking for the right words. "But you're supposed to be the most powerful witch of the century. I thought that it was just being near Jack that crippled you, not that it was a permanent malfunction!"

"What do you mean? You were literally there the last time I…" I stopped, taking a good, hard look at Sam.

"The last time you what?" Sam asked. I took a few steps backwards, shaking my head. It felt fine to shake. It hurt, yeah, but… But I didn't feel like my skull was splitting open. I didn't feel like something was insanely wrong.

It was a normal headache from being knocked out. Mostly, anyways.

"What's wrong, Kylie?" He took a glance behind him, but of course nobody was there. "Come one. We need you to find Jack."

"You're right." I admitted, taking another step back until I hit the wall. "You do think you need me to find Jack."

"Who else would we use? Crowley?" That hurt like a punch to the gut. I gritted my teeth, staying away as the door finally swung open. "Come on! We gotta go!"

"No." I argued. "I need to. You need to stay right here."

"What are you talking about?" He took a few steps in to the cage, but in all honesty there wasn't much room for me to dart around him. He was so tall…

"You're not Sam." I stated, taking a shaky breath. "You're the one from Jasper. You're the one that tried to kill me and Dean and the real Sam."

"Kylie, I have never once tried to kill you." Sam promised. "Hell, I don't think there's ever been a time that I didn't appreciate you for what you're able to do." The second he said those words I felt my heart break. I wanted this to be real. I wanted it to be a real rescue.

But it was a lie. I was screwed.

"That's how I know it's not you." I said. "Because the real Sam… He hated me at first. Him and Dean both. They hated me for what I chose. The real Sam even said that he blamed me when he thought Dean was dead. So why don't you drop the act, Asmodeus," as I spoke, I saw his face fall. "And let me go."

For a split second, we both stood frozen. Nobody moved. Nobody made a sound. Hell, I don't think either one of us even blinked. Finally though, the fake Sam rolled his shoulders back.

"Damn." He muttered. "Almost had it." As he spoke his disguise fell away in smoke. When it cleared, only the appearance of a deep south type of southernly gentleman remained; one with eyes that flashed gold for just a moment. "Ketch told me that those brothers were the equivalent of family to you."

"They are." I nodded. "That doesn't mean we don't have our problems."

"Fair enough, fair enough," Asmodeus took a step towards me, hands raised. "I'll admit when I've been outsmarted. I pushed too much, wasn't prepared on what I was saying. You gotta admit, though," he offered me a devilish smile. "I did a great Sam, if only for a short time. The Dean voice wasn't that bad, either."

"Was it you instead of Ketch?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No, no, Ketch is alive." He assured me. "If you want I'll whistle for him."

"No need for that, Asmodeus." Ketch's voice, smooth and confident, coming from a corner. I froze when I heard it, and watched as he walked around the corner to stand outside the cell. "Hello again, Kylie. How's the head?"

He'd sucker punched me. This fucker had sucker punched me and knocked me out.

"How in the hell are you alive, you British bitch?"

"I believe we have mutual witch friends," Ketch admitted. "Rowena McCloud, for example. She was extremely helpful. In fact, she had a brilliant spell set in place on her own body in case of an emergency like mine; one that would resuscitate the host if the spell felt the life force ebbing away." I glared at the Brit. I wanted him dead. I wished he was dead.

I should've felt the spell on his leg. I should've known it was there.

"Speaking of Rowena," Ketch continued. "Do you know where she might be?"

"Yeah, I know." I nodded, offering a cruel smile. Ketch sighed.

"Would you mind telling me where she is?"

"Yeah, I would." I stayed away, trying to formulate some sort of a plan to bide time and escape. He wanted Rowena for the spell. If he wanted her, I could lie my way to freedom. "I want something in return."

"And what might that be?" Asmodeus asked, taking control of the situation.

"My freedom." I replied. "You know, a ticket out of this cell and back topside."

"And I'm certain the second you're up there you'll run to those Winchester boys, won't you?" Asmodeus asked.

"They are my family, after all." I agreed.

"Yes…" Asmodeus shook his head, walking closer. I took a few quick steps back, but I had run out of room. "Well, you see, I'm looking for my family too. A… A half-brother, if you will, or perhaps a nephew. Jack."

"I don't know where he is."

"I know he's with those Winchester boys." Asmodeus stated. "And I know he cares about you and them very much."

"Jack doesn't care about me." The lie came easily. "He doesn't even know who I am. The only person he really cares about is Cas, and he's dead."

"I seem to recall that young man calling you his friend." Asmodeus pointed out.

"He meant Sam and Dean." I argued.

"I find that extremely hard to believe."

"Really?" I asked. "That sounds like a personal problem."

"Now, Miss Kylie," Asmodeus took two more steps towards me. He gripped my arm tight enough to almost instantly cause bruises. "I am not the most patient of gentlemen, nor is Mr. Ketch here." Ketch offered me a smile. I fought the urge to spit at him. "So, if you cannot already tell, I am running out of patience here with your chatter. You are going to find me that Nephilim."

"And if I refuse?" I asked, gritting my teeth. No answer. Just stern, calculating faces. I couldn't help it, though. I kept speaking. "What, you'll kill me? Do it." I looked between the pair of them, my face completely serious. "Because I won't do shit for either of you." This time I went with my gut, and spit in Asmodeus' face. He blanched, letting go of me to reach for a… Oh my god he literally had a pocket handkerchief. He was literally using a pocket handkerchief to wipe my spit off his face.

"You will come to regret that, Miss Kylie." His hand moved faster than I could see, wrapping around my neck and slamming my head in to the wall. I could've sworn I saw stars, but then again my vocal chords were a little too crushed to say any swears. "And you will come to find," Asmodeus said slowly, leaning in close. "That there are worse things we could do than just kill you." I couldn't respond. I couldn't speak. Asmodeus was choking me for what felt like forever. I kept waiting for him to squeeze just a little more, or to twist his wrist and turn out the lights.

But he didn't.

He withdrew, causing me to slump to the ground as he walked back towards the cell door. "Mr. Ketch, I believe it's time for your first session with our new guest." He said, tossing him the keys as he went. "Feel free to take some time and work out a bit of that anger in you."

"With pleasure." Ketch caught the keys, and neatly placed them inside his pocket. He smiled at me again, but his eyes were as dead as the rest of him should be. From his other pocket he withdrew a simple switchblade. "Now then, let's get started on the location of Rowena McCloud."


	21. Father-Son Time

Castiel was a father. That was an odd feeling, but a… a correct one. His vessel was a father. He'd talked with Kylie about a future he had wished they could have. It… It felt right. It felt good. It felt correct.

It made him smile to think that this could technically make Kylie some sort of a mother-like figure. At least, in Castiel's eyes it did. He didn't wish to replace the memory of Kelly or Jack's relationship to her, but at the same time Castiel couldn't help but hope that the child could look to Kylie as another motherly figure in his life.

He was an extraordinary child. That was another thing that made Castiel smile.

They sat together on the couch, talking quietly. Neither of them particularly needed sleep, much less wanted it. Castiel was taking the time to learn about his son, as was Jack about him.

"You like chocolate?" Castiel asked. Jack nodded enthusiastically.

"With nougat!" He agreed. "Or in a liquid form that Kylie introduced me to. She prefers a more bitter drink, though." He pursed his lips. "It was hot tea. I tried a small amount while she's gone. It doesn't taste nearly as good as the hot chocolate, however it is better than the coffee that Sam and Dean seem to favor." Castiel smiled at that. He was enjoying learning about what Jack liked.

"Their coffee truly is bitter." Cas agreed.

"What types of foods do you like?"

"I can't quite taste food the same way as you," Castiel explained. "However, when I was human I did enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." He had found Kylie's taste in tea bitter when he'd been human as well. Bitter, but helpful to her. According to Kylie the bitterness kept her sharp and awake.

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?" It sounded almost as though he had not eaten one. Castiel thought on that. This was… This would be something a father did; make food for their child.

"I'll make one for you." Cas promised. "I think you would like it."

"Thank you." Jack looked… Strangely relieved at that, but also happy. Very happy. Then his expression changed, in to one of uncertainty.

"What's wrong?"

"I… I feel like…" Jack sighed. "I feel as though I may have caused Kylie to leave for this extended period of time."

"Why would you say that?" Castiel asked.

"Because we argued, before she left." He admitted. "She was trying to teach me how… how to use my powers again. And I got frustrated." He looked extremely guilt as he spoke, yet honest. "She said she wanted to leave for a few hours so that I would have the space to practice, but I… I keep hurting her. Every time I use my abilities she is put in extreme pain, and I don't know why." In truth, Castiel had no clue either. He'd heard the same words from the Winchesters, and it was troubling. Kylie had been an extremely powerful witch. Why would Jack's powers hurt her in this way now? If she had her own magic, she could probably figure out the answer.

Castiel couldn't help but worry for her. He'd called her phone multiple times since they'd arrived at this motel. Each time he'd gotten her voicemail. It had gotten to the point where he had disassociated her voicemail with her; it was her voice, but it wasn't. It was just the barrier to getting to talk to her.

"It's OK." Castiel told his son. "She'll come back. She's smart. She's capable. She's just… She's been through a lot. She lost…" Castiel's voice trailed off as the list of everyone and everything she's ever lost compiled in his head. Her entire family. Her own life, once. Her best friend. The woman she also considered a mother. Whatever Crowley was to her. Her magic. Her home, both once at the Bunker and once within the Men of Letters. Her entire way of life, at least twice. Another woman that she trusted, Mary. Her faith in many people, in general. Castiel, not too long ago.

It was a fair amount of people. She had a habit, as the Winchesters did, of blaming herself for more than she needed to. Knowing her, these would all be things she would blame herself for.

She'd been strong for too long. Something had to break eventually. It was almost inevitable that this would happen. It didn't make Castiel feel any better about it, but it was the truth.

"She's lost as much as Sam and Dean have in a shorter amount of time." Castiel finally said. "She's gone through more than most humans can bear." Jack looked uncertain about that. Castiel offered him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "This was not your fault, Jack. Sometimes humans need time to allow information to settle in; to recuperate and put themselves back in what they consider a whole piece." Cas couldn't recall the last time he'd seen her take some time just to put herself back together again. She was always too busy fixing everything else around her.

This was an OK thing. This was something that had to happen. She'd look at her phone eventually and see the voicemails. She'd come back.

"She's coming back though, right?" Jack asked. Castiel felt his convictions falter in the second Jack asked. He wanted to say yes. He absolutely wanted to say yes.

But what if she was angry? Not at Jack, but at him. What if she was angry with him leaving? What if she didn't believe it was him? What if she just… What if something happened and she didn't come back?

"Of course." Castiel said, his voice betraying nothing. "She'll be back." He pushed back those thoughts that she might not return. She'd be back. Of course, she'd be back. She always came back.

If there was one constant with her, it was that she always managed to come back.

"Thank you." Jack sounded more relieved at that. Castiel offered him another smile, taking a glance at the clock. They were well into the early hours of the morning. "Castiel?"

"Yes Jack?"

"May I ask another question?"

"You just did." Castiel smirked a little, remembering when Sam did this to him. Jack furrowed his brows for a moment.

"May I ask…" He thought, then smiled. "Two more?"

"Certainly." He was smart. He was quick. It was astounding to watch, at times. It made Castiel proud.

"I was afraid to ask Kylie this, because I did not want it to bring up memories that were hard for her." He prefaced. "But I couldn't help but wonder how… How you two came to know each other. How you came to fall in love with her." Castiel smiled a little.

"This is a long story." Castiel warned him.

"I believe we have the time." Jack pointed out. In truth, they did. Neither of them required sleep at the moment.

Castiel leaned back on the couch, thinking as to how best start the story. From when he played at God, perhaps? Or when he pulled her from Crowley? Or how he got to know her when he was human? Perhaps when he shouted at her; literally screamed his affections in her face.

No. He needed to start at the beginning. Her beginning. That was where it all began. Even if it wasn't always pretty, it was better to start there than anywhere else.

"It was… It started eight years ago." Castiel decided. "When her mother became possessed by a demon." That truly was the beginning, at least for her. That was her first experience with the supernatural. That was what set her in Crowley's path. That was what inevitably led her to him.

A demon possessing her mother. That had been the start of the domino effect on her life.

Castiel kept those parts of her life brief. They weren't his story to tell, they were Kylie's. But he moved on to how he heard her praying. "She's not particularly the type to pray, she never has been. She just did this as… As a curiosity. As a hope, I felt." Castiel explained. "It is still the oddest prayer I've ever heard, and I've heard Dean's when he uses them to call for me." Jack laughed a little at that.

He moved on to how he met her again, when that one managed to somewhat stay. A wet paved road, with a younger her wrapped up in his coat. She was malnourished, and dangerously thin. She wasn't that way anymore though. She was determined. She was stubborn. She was smart. She was kind. She had more open and hopeful eyes then. She believed more then.

Castiel doubted that if he looked, he would still see the exact same hopeful optimism he used to see. It may have been a beaten down version then, but now… Now she was smart and calculating. Now she was a little more pessimistic, but with good reason. It still didn't make her eyes shine any less.

"I fell in love with her when she was dying." Castiel admitted. The memory hit him hard as he said those words.

 _She was dying. That much was painfully obvious. She was dying and Castiel couldn't save her. He wasn't enough of an angel to do that._

 _But he wanted to. God, did he want to. He'd saved Sam and Dean countless times, but this girl… Something was different. His time with her had been different. He could feel it. It felt strange, yet wonderful. He wanted more of that time. He needed more of that time._

 _"Nothing you can do, huh?" She asked the words softly. There was blood coming from her mouth, and yet she still spoke so clearly. Castiel knew the answer to her question – no – but he couldn't bring himself to say the word. He wanted to save her. He wanted that time back. He wanted her._

 _"I'm sorry. I should be able to do something." He replied. He felt angry, almost enraged. It wasn't fair. He should be able to fix her. He should be able to heal her. He should be able to do SOMETHING because it wasn't fair that this girl had to die. She was too young. She was too good. She was too important to him. "Anything," he added, furious with himself. "I should be able to heal you. I've brought people back from the dead, from Hell itself. I've dragged Dean and Sam through time, dispelled angels with a sigil carved in to the flesh of my own vessel, fought my older brothers and won; I've traveled miles and miles, seen so much horror and sadness and still survived through it all." As he spoke then, he'd seen every instance he'd mentioned. Those had been natural. Those had been supposed to happen. But this…_

 _This shouldn't be natural. This shouldn't be what was supposed to happen. She deserved to live. She deserved a life._

 _A life with him._

 _The thought came to Castiel's mind unbidden. He hadn't considered that before, not consciously. There was a reason he'd saved her, of course. She had been different. She had always been different._

 _"But I can't save you." He finished. The anger was gone from his voice now. Why did he think that? Why did he think of a life with her? Why, when he thought that this wasn't fair, did he feel personally cheated as well? And not because he couldn't heal her. It was something else._

 _"Why can't I save you?"_

 _"You can't save everyone, Castiel." She said. She put a hand on his face, and Castiel had the strangest urge that he didn't even want to name. It was… Inappropriate for the moment._

 _That didn't make the thought go away, though. That didn't remove the feeling that, in that moment, all he wanted to do with every fiber of his being was kiss her._

 _"Are you really an angel?" Her question shocked him from his thoughts. "The what-the-hell factor has finally kind of worn off. I believed you guys because nothing else made sense. Nothing else still makes sense, but I just have to ask, one last time. Is this all real?"_

 _He could tell her no. He could lie and say that she's dreaming, that it was all a dream, and she'd go to Heaven thinking it was all a dream and lead whatever life she was set to while in her Heaven. He could erase her memories right then and there of all that pain, he was adamant he could still do that simple task, and she would die peacefully. She would die unburdened with the information she had._

 _But he didn't want to. He… He wanted her to remember him._

 _"It's all real, Kai." He promised. "Everything, demons and angels and prophets and whatever else Dean and Sam have told you, it's all real."_

 _They were real. The emotions he was feeling… As he spoke he felt that they were real too. He still wanted to kiss her. He still felt robbed and cheated to have only spent a short amount of time with her. He still wanted to scream at the universe that this wasn't fair, that they both deserved more._

 _"Does that mean Heaven is real?" She didn't have long. Castiel could see the light in her eyes (bright eyes, beautiful eyes, smiling and caring and wonderful eyes) start to fade._

 _"Yes." He answered._

 _"Do you think I'll go to Heaven?"_

 _"Yes." He knew she would. She was too good and too kind and too... Too important to Castiel for her not to go._

 _"Promise me you'll visit?" The words made Castiel's heart feel heavy. He wanted to say yes again. He wanted to see her every day; wanted nothing else more but the chance to see her again._

 _But that wasn't the reality, and he couldn't lie to her. He couldn't bring himself to do that._

 _"I'm an outcast from my own kind." He said. "To go in to Heaven would make things bad for you." He didn't want that. He didn't want her to face hell in Heaven. In Heaven, she would at least be safe._

 _"You'll be an angel again, Castiel, just like the others. I promise." She removed her hand from his face. Why did she do that? He looked back at her, concerned. Was this it? Was this her time?_

 _No. He wasn't ready. He didn't want it to be her time. He wanted to scream at the sky and beg for just a few more minutes, but he couldn't do that either. He couldn't lie to her, and in this moment he couldn't worry her. She was… She was dying._

 _She was dying. That was it._

 _And in that moment, he had to be strong for this girl. His feelings and sudden emotions didn't matter as much, not when she was dying. He couldn't do any of this without making it worse for her, he was certain._

 _The hug she gave him almost made his resolve crumble. "Find me when you are, wherever I end up. Don't try to save me," her cough was wet. These were her last words. "I'm not worth saving. I just want to see you one more time." She went limp in his arms. That was it. That was what broke him._

 _"Kai?" No. Not now. She was good. She was pure. She didn't have the same blood on her hands that the rest of them did. "Kai!" He wanted to tell her those things, tell her about those feelings. He felt like he needed to now. He didn't know why, but he did. He wanted to tell her that he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to tell her that these feelings were new and strange and that he didn't understand them, but that he would like to try and reach an understanding with her. He wanted to listen to her talk. He wanted to… to…_

 _He knew, in that moment. He knew exactly what he had been feeling, right when it was too late. For a moment… He'd felt love. He'd felt emotions of love and anguish and regret at the death of her._

 _He was an angel. Angels weren't supposed to feel those things._

 _But he had._

 _He vowed to himself that day that he would find a way to bring her back. He would do whatever it took to do that. He… He had to know. It was selfish on his part, but he had to know why he felt those things._

He wondered then if he would even be capable of feeling them again. Feeling love. Feeling fear. Feeling despair. Feeling such strong emotions for a human.

"I don't quite know why, but it was then that I was certain I had at least held the capacity to feel love for her." Castiel brought himself from the memory, focusing once more on Jack. "And then she…" Castiel didn't see her from way back then this time. Instead he saw her as he last had, on the ground. Amazed. Pained. Dying. Looking at him. Always looking at him. "She did die." Castiel pushed the image from his head, quietly reaching in to his pocket. The rock was still warm. She was fine. She was alive. She was just taking some time off.

"But death isn't always the end." Jack said the words almost reverently. Castiel smiled, nodding a little.

"And it wasn't for her." He confirmed.

"Did you burn her?"

"No. I was determined to bring her back somehow, possibly call in a favor from an angel." Cas shook his head with a smile. "But I didn't bring her back. Another angel did."

"Why?"

"They wanted me to live a human life, a good one. I was told to live out my own epic story." Castiel could just barely hear Metatron's words from then.

 _"I'll even send you back with someone to help you. You seemed to like the human well enough. Write your epic story with her."_

And in a way, he had. Castiel hated to thank Metatron for anything, but in that he could. Metatron sent her back, too. He'd brought her back to life. If he hadn't done that, she would have probably stayed in Heaven. Castiel would not have been able to even fathom asking a favor from Heaven until a long time after that. Even now the prospect was an unsavory one.

"I learned when she came back that I could continue to love her." Castiel said. "I may have realized I could love her as she died, but I learned I could remain in love for an eternity by being around her more. I knew I would not be the same man without her."

"How… How did you tell her? When did you tell her?" Jack seemed almost entranced with the story, his eyes open and childlike. He hadn't asked Kylie these questions. He hadn't felt comfortable with it.

"We fought, and I shouted it at her." Castiel said bluntly. This swept away the childlike gaze from Jack's face, replacing it with confusion.

"But… You fight with someone and shout at them when you are angry with them." Jack stated.

"That's correct."

"And you… you told Kylie you loved her while you were angry with her?"

"Yes." Jack sat in silence, working through this information in his head. Castiel chuckled softly. "I did not intend to. I was worried about her safety and she was still emotional over the death of a close friend, Kevin, and it just…" Castiel didn't know a better way to explain it. He had been trying to make her understand, and the words just… just flew from him of their own volition. "Here, may I show you?" He asked. Jack nodded. Without hesitation, Castiel gently laid two fingers on either side of Jack's head.

 _"You're leaving." Castiel had heard her rummaging through her room, had come in elated to see her. He was going to tell her. That was it. He was going to tell her, right then and there, how he felt. He couldn't hold it to himself any more. If she died again, and he hadn't told her he loved her… He would never forgive himself for that. Not a second time._

 _It was obvious the second he looked around that she did not intend to stay._

 _"You're damn right I am." She didn't look at him, just kept rummaging around. "I'm gonna hunt that bastard Gadreel down."_

 _"And you thought it would be alright to not speak with me while you did this." The idea of that infuriated Castiel. He had been extremely worried about her._

 _"Why? You plan on stopping me?" She sounded just as infuriated._

 _"If I need to, yes."_

 _The ensuing argument was painful. Castiel hated being angry with her, but… It was as though he was a shaken bottle of carbonated liquid. He had too many things he'd wanted to tell her. He was terrified that she might die again, alone, and that Castiel would lose his chance forever to say these things. He would never forgive himself if she died and he hadn't been there to save her. Not again._

 _Their words turned to shouts, and Castiel's voice shouted the loudest when he lost control and simply couldn't NOT tell her anymore._

 ** _"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, DAMMIT!"_**

 _Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Cas stopped, realizing what he'd said. Or, more accurately, just screamed in her face in an extremely impolite way. That wasn't… That wasn't how he wanted to say it. He had had words planned. Kylie, I love you. As I've come to get to know you I can't ignore that fact anymore. Angels aren't supposed to feel love, but I do. I love you. I love you, and I had to tell you._

 _"You…" Her breath was shaky, and her voice was quiet. It was an extreme change from the shouting match they'd just been in. "You love me?"_

 _"Yes." Castiel promised. Then a thought entered his mind. What if she didn't love him back? What if she didn't want him to love her? He had to ask. He had to know. "Is that alright?"_

 _"Yes." That was one of the happiest moments in Castiel's life. The only one that topped that was when she said she'd marry him, back when they had lived in an apartment together._

"Dean and Sam had a bet going on as to the when and who for this." Castiel finished, withdrawing his hands. "Neither of them won." Jack blinked a few times, allowing the memory to find it's place in his mind. Finally, though, he spoke.

"Why would they place a wager on that?" Castiel almost laughed. Out of everything, Jack asked about that. It was almost comical. But then again… It made sense. Jack had seen everything else. He had seen Castiel's fear turn to frustration. He had seen why Castiel had shouted at her.

"I'm still not certain." Castiel replied. The pair in question was still asleep. It was time-consuming, sleep. Castiel knew that Jack felt the same way. But in some ways, it can also be peaceful. "I believe it was entertaining to them."

"Oh." Jack thought for a moment. "They showed me a different form of entertainment, Netflix. I like it." Castiel smiled. He remembered what Netflix was. It was definitely one of the more entertaining of human creations.

"What was your favorite thing to see on Netflix?"

"Sam recommended The Lord of The Rings. That one was fun. I liked the ideas behind it." He started. From his tone, Castiel could feel a short list forming in Jack's mind. "Dean didn't quite recommend anything, but he seemed to approve of Star Wars. I think Dean has more music ideas in mind instead of movie or TV ideas." That sounded about right with Dean's personality. "Kylie showed me a television show called Doctor Who. That one is very fun." Castiel remembered that one. It involved aliens. Her personal belief was that aliens were just monsters in disguise. "I… I like it when the good guys win. I like cheering for the good guys."

"That's a good thing." Castiel complimented.

"Did…" Jack sounded hesitant about this question. "Did Lucifer like movies?"

"No." Castiel said automatically. "He didn't care much about anything human."

"Oh." He sounded better after that answer. Castiel still felt compelled to talk a little more, though.

"For the record, you aren't like him." Castiel stated. "You look more like your mother than you look like him. You're kinder than him." Castiel smiled a little. "You're better than him, Jack. Don't forget that. Lucifer may be the angel that sired you, but that does not doom you to be like him."

"Intent." Jack muttered.

"What?"

"Just… Just something Kylie told me." Jack smiled a little. "She was helping me learn to use my powers. She said that magic depended on intent, and that… That people did too." Jack looked thoughtful as he spoke. "A person's intent defines who they are, not their lineage."

"That's a very wise thing to say." Castiel complimented.

"Thank you."

"Do you believe it?"

"I do." He sounded firm in those words. "I think I really do."

"Good." Castiel patted him on the back lightly. They talked a little more about different things here and there while they researched. Castiel felt glad that Jack was so comfortable telling him these things, and even more so that the young child felt so comfortable with asking other questions.

No matter what, Castiel was proud of Jack. He was doing good. He was good.

For a prideful moment he almost wished Lucifer _was_ there, if only to rub it in his face that his child was better than him.


	22. Utah

Castiel was looking for Jack. He knew he shouldn't, but he had to make one stop first. He had to see if she was there.

So he drove to Utah, following the only lead he had on her. He'd waited long enough. He had to see her. He had to make sure she was OK. Just knowing she was alive had stopped being enough. He had to make sure she knew he was alive, make sure that she was there and breathing himself. He just…

He had to see her. That was what it all came down to. He loved her. He missed her. He had to see her. Afterwards, he would look for Jack. He just had to see her first.

He found his old truck in the driveway when he arrived. It made him smile that she had brought it. He was, coincidentally, in the car that Rowena had given her. Apparently Sheriff Mills had found a moment to bring it to the Bunker.

It was fun, the short switch. He knew that Kylie would laugh on it when she saw what had happened.

Out of curiosity, Castiel popped out the tape in the VCR. It wasn't his mix, but it was a mix she'd made herself. He opened the glove box, and found the tape Dean had given him.

She was there. She was in there. She had to be. Castiel took a deep breath, regarding the tape one more time before closing up the compartment. He felt… nervous… all of the sudden. Why did he feel nervous? It was Kylie. It was the woman he loved. She was in that cabin, waiting for him.

But he still felt nervous. What if she didn't want to see him? What if she didn't want to see anyone? She was out here for a reason, after all. Maybe she just… just didn't want him there. Maybe she wouldn't want to see him.

"You're being foolish, Castiel." He muttered. "Kylie will be happy to see you." He looked once more hesitantly at the cabin. "Kylie will be happy to see you." He repeated. His voice sounded less sure, though. She wasn't stupid. She would've come out at the sound of a car coming up. She would've heard it and come out to see what was up.

Unless she didn't want to. Unless she didn't want visitors.

Castiel took a deep breath, adjusting his coat. He wished he'd thought of flowers. Why didn't he think of flowers? Just walk in, holding flowers, and announce he was back.

Then again, she hated flowers. She always claimed that she didn't have a green thumb, she had a black one. So maybe it was good that he hadn't brought flowers. Maybe a small cactus would've been better suited for her. Apparently they were quite popular now.

Castiel shook his head. He was procrastinating. Why was he doing that? He should be excited to see her. But still, he was scared of what he would find.

 _(Broken, on the ground. Why her?)_

No. No, she was fine. Sam and Dean said she was fine. She had even driven herself here. She would be fine. She was fine.

Castiel just had to inside.

So he strode up to the door, the first footstep acting like a catalyst in his mind. Steps turned to a fast walk, then a jog, then almost a full sprint as he made his way towards the door. He had to see her. He wanted to see her. She would want to see him.

She was there. She was alive. They could be together again. They would be together again.

Castiel almost burst through the door, unable to contain his excitement. "Kylie!" He shouted the word in excitement. She was there. She was alive. She was… she was…

There wasn't an answer. She wasn't answering him.

He stopped, feeling… Dread, but he couldn't place why. "Kylie?" He asked aloud, starting to move slowly through the cabin. He worked his way to the back, her room, and saw that it was untouched. She hadn't slept here. The bathroom was the same way. "Kylie?" He asked again, turning. That was when he saw it.

The curtains. They were blowing outside the window.

Castiel ran towards them, pulling them aside to inspect the area clearer. The window was broken. There were somewhat distinct disturbances in the ground not too far in front of it, as though someone had landed hard and kept going.

"Kylie?!"

Something was wrong.

"KYLIE!"

Something had happened.

Castiel felt panic. She was in danger, he knew it. The window wouldn't have been broken if she wasn't. Her phone… She would've answered her phone if she wasn't.

Castiel ran back down to the truck, dialing her number as he ran. As it rang Castiel could hear her ringtone.

It was coming from under the car.

He stooped low to the ground, and saw what appeared as though her phone had been kicked under the car. He picked it up. The device was almost dead.

 _MISSED CALLS:_

 _Dean (5)_

 _Sam (3)_

 _Jack (7)_

 _Unknown (2)_

 _Castiel (12)_

The unknown number had been him, from the payphone.

Kylie hadn't gotten any of these calls. She hadn't been here to get them.

"No." Castiel whispered. No. This couldn't be real. He'd just come back. She couldn't be in danger. Not now. God, please not her. Not now.

Castiel called Sam and Dean immediately after that. "Something happened to Kylie. Something is wrong. She's not at the cabin, the window is broken, and her phone is abandoned." The words came out rushed. He was… Castiel was scared. They had no idea how long Kylie had been gone. For all they knew, she'd been in danger since the moment she'd left.

Over a week. She'd been gone for over a week.

For humans, when a person went missing their chances of being found dropped drastically within two or three days. Kylie had been gone for over a week.

Dean and Sam did their best to assure him, and promised that they'd put out another APB on Kylie as well as Jack. "Go meet with that angel friend of yours, in the meantime." Dean ordered. "We'll do what we can from here. Besides, your fiancé is resourceful. If she's in trouble, she'll find a way to send up the bat signal."

Castiel did his best to ignore the fact that she was, apparently, entirely human once more. Accomplishing that task might be more difficult for her than Dean made it sound.

He drove away, back in his own truck. He left the keys to Kylie's car under the seat before he did. If she came back, she would be able to drive away fast.

Castiel gripped the rock tightly as he drove. It was still warm. She was still alive. That was his only consolation at that point. She was alive.

Cas could only hope that she was safe as well.


	23. Lockup

I kept myself in a small ball in the corner of my cell. It was easier, that way. Other random demons that chose to taunt me couldn't reach me easily from this corner. They threw food at me sometimes (rotten food. Hard frozen food. Whatever they thought would hurt or humiliate me best), boiling water other times. Some days they just taunted me from the sidelines. That was easiest. Hell, even when they threw boiling water on me that was still easier than dealing with Asmodeus.

Or Ketch. Ketch came more often than Asmodeus did, but at least when it was the Prince I could feel some sort of relief.

When Asmodeus came, he announced himself with a southern drawl and a southern greeting. "Good morning, darling. How're you feeling today?" That was his favorite one. Some days it was "Hello, sweetheart! You ready to work with me today?" The questions were always rhetorical. He always pulled me out of the cell roughly, but with a modicum of false politeness. And he was always trying to get in my head, but couldn't, and every failed attempt just enraged him further. He was always trying to weasel out whatever kinds of information out of me that he could.

He varied in his methods to coerce me. Some days he showed false kindness, with real food or "sympathetic" conversation. Some days he pretended to be the people I cared about here to rescue me, but that came to an end after about the 50th time. At that point… I stopped getting up. I stopped running to the cell door. I stopped believing I would be saved.

I had to give them credit for the ingenuity, though. Ketch had given him a lot of information about me. Asmodeus had a decent amount of people to chose from. Family, friends, loved ones, lost ones… the Prince had options. He only appeared as Cas once, though. Out of all of them, he only did Castiel one time. The response from me was a complete shutdown. I didn't speak. I didn't move. I didn't even look at him.

I knew Asmodeus' version of Castiel didn't involve a stab wound, but that didn't stop me from seeing it anyways.

He tried Kevin and T.J. and Mrs. Tran a lot. When he dressed as them they blamed me; for their deaths, for their suffering, for even talking to them, for being unable to find Jack and for a lot of other mistakes. Sometimes he did Sam or Dean, but those were easier to see through. He just couldn't quite get their subdermal anger down. Too much pleading with them, too much family. He did my brothers and parents even less. Ketch didn't have enough on them to get it quite right for Asmodeus. He tried using them as a favor, promising that they'd be back if I could just find Jack.

That was all he wanted, no matter what; for me to find Jack. He'd be nice about it, he'd be cruel about it, and he'd do anything in his power to make me try to find the Nephilim. Every once in a while, I made a show of an attempt; just to alleviate the boredom and put off the pain just a little longer. Each time it blew up in my face, putting me in worse pain than even Asmodeus could conjure.

His anger when he finally ran out of patience with me at the end of each session was fiery and immediate. He wasn't the most patient evil, not even close. He would wait as long as he could for me to attempt whatever was bound to fail, and he would seek retribution for wasted time. He was violent in his responses, but… it was pure violence, at least. I could take a guess at what was coming, and be OK with that. I could live with the honest breaks that he would heal to break again and heal to break again. I could live with the pains incurred across my body and flames across my skin. I could even live with getting patched up at the end of it all every time, as though nothing ever happened. Some sort of modified spell from the Pit. After all, I wasn't going to be able to do anything if I was just a broken doll now, was I?

But even with all that, I could put up with the torture Asmodeus put on me. It wasn't as bad as Ketch. It wasn't even close.

Ketch came quietly, his body usually vibrating with some sort of fury that needed an outlet. Sometimes it was about how I wouldn't tell him where Rowena was, or why I wouldn't do the spell myself. I did tell him she was dead, eventually. He didn't believe me. I don't think he wanted to believe me, because that would mean that his only option left for that spell being done was me. No other witch would be able to replicate it except me.

That is, if I had magic.

Neither of them wanted to accept that I couldn't cast anymore. Ketch didn't want to accept it because he had told Asmodeus I could do much more than I was. Asmodeus didn't want to believe it because he had no other option in finding Jack. I think the only reason they kept me alive was to use as a personal punching bag, one that had a direct connection to the Winchesters.

Either that, or I was their only bargaining chip. It made sense. In case they came close, they could offer a trade or threaten my life in front of the others. So I was just… Just a placeholder. The second they had Jack, I'd be dead.

I just wished I could be dead already. It would remove the ability for them to use me, and it would free me from the day-to-day torment. But each day or session or whatever, I always ended up back in the cell just barely alive enough to lose hope I would ever be free. And each day, I dreaded seeing Ketch more than I did hearing Asmodeus speak.

Once Ketch came to a point in which he understood my limitations (or at the very least my stubbornness), he visited for new reasons. Ketch came when he was annoyed. He came when he was frustrated. He came when he remembered everything I had done, everything that had led to his failures. He would open the cell doors without a word, and drag my by my hair to wherever he was going to torture me. He actually cut my hair short at one point, to show "how powerless I was now."

His words, not mine.

Asmodeus wanted to use me, and was absolutely infuriated when it didn't work, but Ketch… Ketch hated me. Ketch loathed me. To the former British Man of Letters, I represented everything that had gone wrong in his life. I represented his failures. I represented the inability for him to kill me. I represented the reason that the remaining Men of Letters wanted him dead. I represented the downfall of his perfect life.

"You ruined everything for me. EVERYTHING. I had EVERYTHING, and you destroyed all of it!"

With Ketch, the beatings never stopped. With Ketch, he got more creative in his punishments. With Ketch… I was scared. I was terrified. I could take whatever Asmodeus threw at me, but Ketch… He made me beg for death. He made me wish I could die and be free from all of this. He came and came and came and took all his fury out on me and never stopped. He hated me more than anything else, and made damn sure I didn't forget it. This man wasn't sorry for the past, didn't hold a speck of remorse for anything he may have done to me. He blamed me for everything, even for existing, and probably would for the rest of his life.

I said he got creative. He knew that in Hell, boundaries tended to blur a little between what you could and couldn't do. Asmodeus didn't much mind what Ketch did to me as long as he didn't kill me, but DAMN did I wish he'd just do it and put me out of my misery. He'd flay my skin and burn the bare muscles afterwards. He'd break every finger and twist them in to painful new shapes, and leave them there and throw me back like that in my cell until Asmodeus "put me back in proper sorts." He took out one of my eyes at one point, but with Hell… I could see everything he was doing to me through that removed eye. I could feel the pain of having it removed. I could watch him disembowel me and haphazardly put me back together again until Asmodeus finished the job, and I was made whole once more.

You knew it was bad when you feared a man entering your cell more than a Prince of Hell. I knew it was bad that I would prefer Asmodeus over Ketch. But every day I did, and every day Ketch came for me I wished that it would be Asmodeus instead.

So I stayed in my corner, as far as I could. I'd tried to die already, but they wouldn't let me. Ketch or Asmodeus always caught me right before I could finish it and just be done with all of this.

I just wanted to be done. I just wanted to be dead and done. Was that too much to ask?!

Apparently, it was. I hadn't even seen any Reapers come for me.

I heard the cell doors open, and cringed. No voice. No hello. Just wordlessness.

Ketch.

Then he spoke, and so did Asmodeus. This was new. This was different. This was almost scarier, because I didn't know what to do with this. However, there were other voices too. One other one, specifically.

"What the hell, guys?!" Once I recognized the other voice, or at least thought I did, I froze. No. No no no no no. No. Not him too. He… He was gone. He was locked away. I locked him away. I knew I had. "Come on! Really? Throwing your own maker in a cell?!" I heard two rough shoves, one aimed towards the other cell next to me, and afterwards the door slam shut. "Really? REALLY!?"

"Enjoy the company!" Asmodeus crowed, him and Ketch's footsteps walking away.

"Fuck you guys too!" Lucifer shouted back, banging on his bars.

"I don't think there's much we can do now." That was the first time I heard the other person speak, and once I heard that voice I knew. They were lying, they had to be. He was DEAD. One was locked in a parallel universe that I had yet to succeed in opening a door to, and the other… The other I burned. The other I watched die, and burned his body afterwards.

I shook my head, muttering to myself. "No." I muttered. "No. No. Absolutely not. This is a new low, even for you assholes." I kept my face covered by my hands, refusing to even look at them. Instead I stood up, keeping my back to them as I moved to grip the bars tightly. "READ THE PAPERS, YOU STUPID FUCKS! YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH MY GODDAMN MIND! I KNOW WHAT'S REAL AND WHAT'S OBVIOUSLY A BUNCH OF FUCKING _**BULLSHIT!**_ " I shook them once, angrily, feeling so goddamn furious I couldn't contain it. "THIS IS THE WORST BULLSHIT I'VE EVER HEARD, BUT," I laughed a little, realizing what had to have happened. "GOOD JOB ON THE VOICE LESSONS!" That was it. There were demons or shapeshifters in the cells, sent to drive me insane. "DID YOU GET YOURSELVES A WHOLE MIXMASTER OF ANGEL SOUNDS? WHO HAD TO GATHER THOSE? OH, I HOPE IT WAS THAT NUMBER CRUNCHER DEMON! HE SEEMS THE TYPE TO GET THAT DUMBASS JOB!" I shook them again, staring out and waiting for the response, waiting for the laughter. Nobody answered. "COME ON! THE JIG IS UP! TAKE THESE TWO-BIT FUCKS OUT SO I CAN AT LEAST ENJOY A PEACEFUL JAILING!" Still no response, not even from behind me.

Until there was a slow clap. "Wow." Fake Lucifer commented. I still didn't look at them. I couldn't. I didn't even want to. If I looked at both of them I'd either see demons or shapeshifters, and I didn't trust my eyes anymore. I was barely retaining my sanity. "I mean, like, DAMN. Someone grew some balls while she was here, eh?"

"Fuck off." I said. "You're not even real. I locked you away. I literally watched it happen."

"Jailbreaking is what I do," fake Lucifer responded. "And if I'm not real, like you're saying, then why don't you turn around?"

"Why look when I know what I'll see?" I asked. "Demons or fakes. You're not real. You're not even worth this conversation." I closed my eyes, turning to lean my back on the wall next to me. "And if you're smart you'll keep your distance, douchebags." I let out a hoarse laugh. "That or kill me now, if your masters will let you." I pursed my lips. "Then again, they never seem to let that happen."

All that got was a low whistle. "They did a number on you, didn't they?"

"Shut up." I ordered, my voice cracking just the slightest bit. I was just so… so DONE. I was done being afraid of Ketch and Asmodeus, done with the form of existence I was forced to endure now. Torture. Anger. Hate. Pain and fear and suffering and absolutely endless amounts of cruelty. It was worse than Crowley when he and I had been enemies.

I just wanted it to be over. I wanted all of this to be over.

I slumped back to sitting, letting my head flop back against the hard concrete. "Please, just… Just stop. I've been through enough and I am finished dealing with all of this. Kill me or leave me be and tell your bosses it didn't work." I laughed a little. "Next time, try laying off the Lucifer voice. Not my favorite one. You could've plugged a lot more of Ca–" I felt his name get stopped up in my throat, but I forced it through anyways. "Castiel." I grunted. "But, again, read the papers. Neither of them could possibly be here. This is just a really, really bad attempt at re-creating my dreams." Or my nightmares.

I curled back up in to my normal small ball, leaning in to my corner. At some point one of the demons would come with some rotten food or more boiling water, or maybe this would be one of the rare times they threw edible food at me to stop death by starvation. Or a water bottle.

A frozen one. They lobbed the frozen water bottles pretty well. I had the bruises to show.

Nobody had spoken for a while, and I was grateful. I was done listening to the fake Lucifer's awful responses, and done hoping that it wasn't a fake Castiel in the cell with me. I glanced up, curiosity getting the better of me, and saw…

A fake Castiel, standing in the middle of the cell and looking at me as though I was from Mars or something. He looked… exactly like how the real one had looked. Same tan coat. Same tie. Same hair. Same blue eyes. Same bewildered expression. Fake Lucifer stood on the other side of bars, in a different cell. He looked like… like a bum; like one of those homeless guys I'd listen to that was just waiting to get back with their wives, or planning for a future that they never followed through on.

He looked surprisingly human, and surprisingly un-threatening. For the record, he also looked moderately surprised as well when he saw my face. "What?" I asked. "Feel weird to be on the same side of bars as me after everything you bastards have done?" I looked back at Castiel and remembered my last session with Ketch…

For a moment I felt painfully aware of the burn marks on my face; the A.K. branded in to my cheek, the cauterized slashes across the other side. The rest of me didn't look too hot either. Bruises and burns and cuts and scrapes and dirt and dust and probably at least one or two small bones broken and so, so much more just covering my entire body. If it were the real Castiel in front of me, I'd almost feel… Embarrassed, for him to see me like this. Ashamed, even, for the strong woman that he had probably remembered reduced to the form I was in now.

Thin.

Broken down.

Begging for death.

But that wasn't the real Castiel, so why should I be ashamed? Why should I even care? Hell, why should I care about anything anymore?

"Kylie," that was the second time I'd heard the fake Castiel speak. It was almost amazing, they had the exact facial expression Castiel would wear when he was worried or feeling distraught inside. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real, but someone had done their homework at the very least.

"Nice job on the expressions." I commented, motioning to him as I looked away. "Not a half bad job at all. How much did you practice them?"

"I… I'm real." He said. "I'm here. Kylie, it's… It's me. I'm back."

"Yeah right." I rolled my eyes, staying curled up. "Didn't you hear the news? You're dead and the other one is in a parallel universe I sealed up myself. Neither of you can be real. Neither of you can be here right now."

"Just out of curiosity, why?" Lucifer asked. "What makes you so certain we're demons or shapeshifters or whatever you crazy kids think up these days?" Same sarcasm, but that wasn't hard to imitate. These demons had definitely been around Lucifer more than Castiel.

"Because I sealed that Rift myself." I stated, my voice firm. "I gave everything I had to close it. People, good people, gave their lives to put away the real Lucifer…" I remembered Crowley's last glance at me, that last bittersweet smile. Castiel's… the real Castiel's… last smile at me, the smile of relief in believing that we had won. Kelly's last request before she died. Mary's final act of defiance. Too many people had been lost for me to accept that Lucifer could come back. "Besides, if you were really here then I'd be dead. You'd be killing me for what I did."

"Eh, fair point." There was a short pause. "What?! She's got an actual point! I still do kinda want to see her head on a platter." Another pause.

"And what about me?" The fake Castiel asked, his voice soft. "What makes you so certain I can't be real?"

"Because I watched you die, I watched HIM," I pointed at Lucifer without looking over. "Stab you in the back, and afterwards I… I burned the real Castiel." I stated the fact simply, albeit… hollowly, like I was repeating dead words. Dead words for a dead man. "Nobody comes back from that." That was the golden rule that I'd learned. Nobody came back from burning. Kevin hadn't come back. Mary… That had taken a literal act from God's freaking sister, and God… God wasn't here anymore.

I'd prayed to him enough for some sort of reprieve to know he either wasn't there, wasn't listening, or wasn't caring.

"I came back for you." Castiel stated, sounding just as hollow as I had.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him. He looked downtrodden, but I didn't believe it. It was just an act. It had to be an act. "Tell me then, who brought you back? God? Amara?"

"Neither."

"Then please, regale me with whatever bullshit story you've concocted to explain how in the hell you're supposedly alive." My eyes flickered over to Lucifer. "And furthermore, how in the hell that jackass is back and how come the two of you came in together."

"I…" I glanced back up at Fake Cas, and saw a look of… acknowledgement on his face. Whatever he was about to say, he was fully aware of how it would sound. Good. Maybe it would stop him from repeating the bullshit company line. "I annoyed an ancient cosmic being to the point of forcing him to send me back." I laughed out loud at that one.

"That… That's inventive." I admitted. "Very creative. Props to whoever came up with that idea." I looked over at Fake Luci next. "What about you? What's your fun and hip backstory for how you ended up in your own jail cell and," I couldn't help it. "Admittedly, looking like another homeless bum?" Lucifer glared at me sharply for that. "See, that's how I know you're not real." I pointed out. "Real Lucifer would've snapped his fingers," I did for emphasis, rolling my eyes. "And killed me for saying that, just out of sheer spite." No response, just a disgruntled glare. "Come on, entertain me! What events have you concocted that would supposedly bring you back into this universe?"

"Michael's trying to jailbreak in to our world." Lucifer stated, continuing to glare. "He's got a prophet opening up a Rift of his own. It only admitted one, however, so I made my grand escape back here. And for the record, I don't look like a bum!" He motioned to himself for emphasis. "I look very much so like an archangel that's just… had a rough day."

"Keep telling yourself that, buddy. Who's Michael's prophet?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Evil Michelangelo? Or Kevin?"

"Like, post meth-head breakdown Kevin." Lucifer commented, looking up as he thought. "Really jittery."

"And the completely inconceivable team-up?" I motioned between the two.

"I'm looking for my son." Lucifer said. Castiel looked down.

"There was an incident. Jack chose to leave for a short period of time, and I am trying to find him." Castiel explained. "Lucifer found me when I went to ask the other angels for help." Really? Lucifer, coincidentally back from Apocalypse world just around the same time that Jack supposedly goes missing? Lucifer just wandering on to Castiel? Hell, the real Castiel working with Lucifer in general?

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I laughed a short, barking laugh at the two of them.

"I've got to admit," I commented. "You guys have an extremely… unique… story." I shrugged. "Totally not a believable one, but unique and creative. 10/10 on the originality aspect. Personally, I think Crowley could've done better on the believability aspect if he were running this, but still… Not bad at all on originality. Great first effort, guys!" I offered them sarcastic applause before I went back to not looking at either of them. I was tired of this game. It was better than dealing with Asmodeus or Ketch, but it was also… Sadder. Sadder because the idea of the impossible, my dead fiancée and the angel that most wants me dead being back and here with me, was better than my current realistic standing. I almost wished it really was Castiel (and even yeah, Lucifer too), because it was better than the reality. It was better than being alone in a small cell. It was better than being alone in hell. It was better than being alone, period.

But I was alone, and nobody was coming to rescue me.

I knew that.

Nobody even knew where I was. Nobody knew Asmodeus had me. Nobody knew I'd been tortured for however long they'd had me (it felt like months, but that was Hell for you). I doubted anybody even knew Ketch was back. They just thought I'd run off, probably; an extended "me time" vacation.

Nobody that could save me knew the truth. I was all alone in this hellhole.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and felt one more tear fall down. I hated that I wished this was some sort of true, but there was a part of me that did.

A part of me didn't care that having Cas back in this scenario came with Lucifer, because… Because it was still having Cas back, it was still not being alone, and it was still better than what I was dealing with in my reality. It was so, so much better than just being alone with Asmodeus and Ketch to do with me as they wanted.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I knew it was the fake Castiel's. I shrugged it off roughly (and pretended my hesitation before the act didn't exist). "Can't you see that I'm broken enough?" I asked, my voice soft. "Can't you see there's nothing else left to destroy? There's nothing else left that Asmodeus or Ketch can do to me to break me further. I'm… I'm done. I don't have anything left." I took a breath. "So leave, or kill me now. There's nothing left for you to do." The hand didn't touch my shoulder again. Instead, I could feel him sit down beside me, with maybe a foot between us.

"What do I have to do, Kylie?" He asked. "What do I do to prove to you that I'm really here?"

"You can't be here."

"Please, tell me why."

"Because I burned you."

"And yet Mary still came back from that." He reminded me. "It's extremely rare, and takes a tremendous amount of power, but it can happen." He waited after those words, waited for my answer.

Fine. Why not tell him? What was the harm in it?

"Because I want it to be real." I said the words almost angrily; definitely said them emotionally though. "Because I've dreamed that you came back every night since you died, or that you never left or that we were married or countless other scenarios, always ending in the painful reminder that you were dead, and that I couldn't save you. You can't be real because I want you to be real, and it's too good of a thing to actually happen to me." I glanced over at him again, and saw what appeared to be legitimate emotional pain in his eyes. "I want you to be real, Castiel. I'm not ashamed to admit that, I really do want you to be real. But I also know that things like that just don't happen." I went back to keeping my eyes closed, my body curled up in a small, thin ball. "I'm not lucky enough for good things to happen to me anymore."

Once those words left my mouth, it was as though the heaviest of silences fell over the three of us. Nobody said a word. It felt almost as though nobody wanted to. And in truth, how do you say anything after that?

I'd admitted my truth, and I was OK with that, but for these guys? I had nothing left I could lose, save my own sanity. There was nothing left that they could take from me and nothing that they could shatter further. I was…

I was a shell of the woman I used to be. I couldn't do anything, couldn't save anyone…

I was more or less a worthless sack of skin and bones, now; just a human waiting to die.

What more could they ask from that?

"I came back for you." Castiel whispered. I glanced over at him, and saw he had kinda mimicked my pose. Where I was in a small ball in a corner, he sat a little more open, with his back against the wall. His head was leaning back against it, and his eyes were closed. His hands rested at the wrist on his knees, limp and motionless. "I know… I know that this will be hard for you to hear, that these will probably be words that you won't believe, but I have to tell you anyways. I came back for you, Kylie. I may have accomplished that by annoying the being, but you were my driving reason behind it. You… you are the woman I would do anything for, the woman whom I intended to keep my promise to. I still do, by the way." I watched him reach in to his pocket and pull something out. "I knew that… that somehow you had made it out alive. All I could see was that picture in my mind of you on the ground, beat up and injured and suffering from multiple wounds that I feared would be the end of you, and… And I was in the Empty. I was arguing with the Entity, and I told it," he shook his head, offering a small smile and a laugh. "I told it that I was going back because I had you, waiting for me. I had made you a promise, a promise to marry you, and I wasn't going to let you down on that promise." Whatever was in his hand, he grasped it tightly. "I held on to this thing and kept thinking about everything I'd promised you before, well," Another laugh, this one huffed out. I fought back a rueful smile. "Before Lucifer stabbed me in the back. I promised you a life. I promised you a marriage. I promised you a family, with us and the Nephilim and Sam and Dean and whoever else you wanted in it. I promised you a picture of perfection, one that I at least hoped you considered just as perfect as I did, and I… I died before I could follow through on any of that. So I held on to this rock," his fingers moved around it, holding the item in front of his face. I could see a rock sticking out of his fingers, one that had a red mark on it. His head dipped down so that his forehead touched the item. "And I kept remembering those promises, kept the idea of you being alive and us still being able to live that life as firm as possible in my mind. I had to believe. I had to keep believing." He bit his lip just a little bit, shaking his head as he put the rock back in his pocket. He leaned back to having the back of his head on the wall, his voice sounding extremely defeated. "And I wish I'd gotten here sooner, Kylie. I do. I wish I'd gotten back before you ended up here. I wish I'd been here to protect you. I… I cannot begin to describe how much I wish I had been here for you, how if I could change only one thing it would be that I could protect you better from so, so much more. I just…" His voice stopped, a hard breath escaping. "I just wish I could have succeeded in doing the right thing, just once, for you. That is all I have wanted since the day I met you." He let his head fall in his hands, the rock still in his pocket.

I couldn't help but stare, my mind working. Asmodeus had been trying since the day I got here to get in to my head, but hadn't succeeded. Anything he knew, I'd told him of my own accord. I'd told him about how I'd closed the Rift, how Jack's power had caused me so much pain and still does, the negativity and desolation that seemed the most common theme in the other world. I'd told him almost everything.

But I hadn't told him about the rocks. Granted, Ketch could've known about them, but… He would've thrown it in my face. He held no bounds when he tortured me, reminded me of every bad thing I'd ever done and every death he could twist to be my fault. He'd thrown Castiel's death in my face countless times, but the rocks…

He never once spoke about them. He never said a word. He… he probably didn't even know. He may have never known.

No.

No way.

Nothing good happens. Not to me. Not in this place. Not anymore.

But nobody else… Nobody knew.

 _Nobody knew. Not even Sam and Dean. Not even Crowley._

 _You never told a soul._

"You… You…" I muttered. "Cas?" The second his name left me, he turned sharply to look at me. He nodded a little, a small smile beginning to form.

"Yes." He said. "Yes, it's me."

"You're…" I took a breath, finally stating the one thing I'd been so vehemently denying. "You're real. You're here. You're alive." He moved faster than I could imagine once I said that, wrapping his arms around me.

"Yes." He promised, holding me as close as he could. He felt so warm. He felt so real. He felt… solid. Here. I could even smell that familiar smell I could only associate with him: clean clothes and something else I could only describe as being celestial. It felt like him. It sounded like him. It smelled like him. It had to be him.

Only he would have that rock. Only he would have all of these details and do all of this and be, just…

Just be him, and damn it all if Lucifer wasn't with him. That didn't matter. He was here. He was alive.

It was him. It really was him.

I clutched on to him tightly, squeezing my eyes shut as my new reality took hold. Castiel was alive. Somehow, he was alive.

"I'm here." He promised, whispering those words over and over and over again. "I'm here. I'm here. I'm here. I'm real. I'm alive. I'm here."

He was here.

He was real.

He was _alive._


	24. Pain

I woke up to cell doors opening, and felt my stomach drop. I was surprisingly warm, but the second I heard the doors… All I could feel was a cold chill running throughout me. I skirted backwards on reflex, sitting up to see the one person I hated most.

Ketch.

He stood in the doorway. That was all he needed to do, just stand in the doorway. Castiel woke up at my movements. He looked between me and Ketch, concern and alarm coloring his expression. "What are you doing here?" He asked the Brit.

"I'm here for the bitch." Ketch stated. "We have an appointment." Castiel looked back over to me once more, and I knew he could see the scarred burn marks on my face. A.K.

Arthur Ketch.

Castiel's face steeled, turning back to the other man. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no." Castiel repeated. "You will have nothing more to do with her."

"I think I will." Ketch decided, taking a step towards me. I flinched, and Castiel moved automatically to guard me. Ketch stopped, looking between the two of us. "Oh, this is adorable." Ketch commented. "Absolutely adorable. You actually think you have a choice in this matter."

"I believe I do." Castiel argued.

"Cas, it… It's OK." I promised quickly. I wasn't quite certain what Ketch was thinking of doing, but I knew it would be so much worse.

"No, it's not." Castiel stated. His voice sounded like steel as he spoke. "This man will have nothing more to do with you."

"Alright, playtime's over." Ketch decided, levelling a revolver at Castiel. "I have six bullets in this gun, all smelted from recovered angelic blades. I'm quite certain, however, that I will only need one to prove my point in saying that what you want doesn't matter anymore." He cocked it, and I knew better than to challenge Ketch. He wasn't bluffing. He never was.

"Cas, it's OK." I repeated. "I'll go. It… It'll be fine. I promise." The promise was a lie, we both knew it, but it was better than nothing. Whatever Ketch did would be worse than hell. I didn't want anything to happen to Cas. I just got him back, I couldn't lose him.

But still, Cas remained firm. He didn't once move or waver. He just stared down Ketch, adamant in his choice. "You will not take her." Castiel argued once more. Ketch just shrugged.

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way." Ketch looked down the sight lazily, adjusted his aim, and fired.

I recoiled backwards automatically, my shoulder exploding in pain. I curled back in to a small ball. I wanted to howl in pain. GOD did that hurt. I gritted my teeth, pressing my other palm in to my shoulder as I breathed deeply through my nose.

"What did you do?!" Castiel shouted.

"I shot her." He said simply, taking a spare glance at my shoulder. "It looks like the bullet was a through and through, luckily for you. She's gotten quite thin since she has been here." He wasn't wrong. I was more or less skin and bones now. But that didn't matter in that moment. No, what mattered was the FUCKING BULLET HOLE in my FUCKING SHOULDER. "Heal her. In fact, heal all her wounds and scars and pretty little injuries right now. I know she told you not to." In truth, I had. I'd been afraid of what would happen if Cas did. I knew Jack's powers hurt me, as did Asmodeus' whenever he put me back together. I didn't want Castiel to see that kind of pain from me.

But now, he was going to. Castiel laid hands on me immediately, one on my shoulder and the other on my face, and I could see his hands start to glow.

I screamed from the pain, shoving his hands aside as I gripped my head. Castiel recoiled from me as though he had been burned, and I could feel his terror. "What did you do?!" He roared at Ketch.

"Absolutely nothing." The Brit promised. "And you know what? This was more entertaining than what I originally had planned. I may do this more often now, and let you be the one that hurts her instead." I heard footsteps, followed by the sound of cell doors close and lock. "However, do remember this: The two of you being allowed to share your confinement together is a gift, not a requirement. This situation can be changed if need be." Ketch's footsteps faded in to the distance, but that wasn't the thought at the forefront of my mind.

No, I was more focused on the amounts of pain that I was still in from Castiel's magic.

"Kylie?" Castiel's voice was urgent. "What did Ketch do to you? I need to know so I can help you. You need to tell me."

"He didn't…" I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get something in my head to clear out. I could feel little bits of Castiel's power still racing through, trying to heal me and still causing so much pain. "He didn't do anything. Cas, he didn't… He didn't do anything to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Jack…" I took a deep breath, feeling so much more tired all of the sudden. "Jack did something to me, or the spell did when it was finished, but… It's not just that I can't do magic anymore. I can't have anything to do with magic, either." I opened my eyes enough to look at Cas. "If I'm in close enough proximity to any sort of magic or power, I feel sick or my head hurts. If it's done directly to me, I… I can't take too much. It hurts, Cas. It's like something in my head is trying to break and destroy me." I took another few breaths, fighting out the pain. "I'm sorry."

"It's OK." Castiel promised. "It's not your fault." He took another glance at my shoulder. It hadn't healed fully, and was looking like it could open again if I moved it too much. "I need to heal that, though." He told me. "It'll be worse if I don't." I knew he was right. Of course he was right.

That didn't mean it wouldn't hurt me any less. I nodded once, gritting my teeth. "Do it." I muttered. He undid his tie, and folded it up for me. I understood the intent automatically. It would be easier on the both of us if I was muffled for this. I took the tie and bit down on it hard, taking in another deep breath.

Castiel got to work then, his hands once more alight with angelic grace. I could see my vision cloud with black spots as I screamed against the fabric. The pain… My head…

I blacked out. I don't… I don't remember much besides my head screaming in pain (or was that my voice?). When I woke up, Castiel was shaking me. "Kylie! Kylie wake up! Kylie! Kylie!"

"Stop with the incessant repetitions already!" Lucifer shouted. I grimaced, trying to move around a little. Every muscle in my body ached and groaned. My head felt as though there was a constant symphony of explosions just right behind the edges of my skull. Everything hurt. Everything just felt like the most pure and honest definition of agony.

"Fuck." I muttered. I could hear Castiel's sigh of relief.

"Good, you're awake."

"Regretfully." I admitted. "I think I'd prefer to be dead." Castiel didn't say anything after that, just cradled me as he sat me up. I wasn't exactly in the mood for opening my eyes. I was actually quite certain that if I did the lights would just make it worse.

I wasn't quite certain whether I had the muscle strength to open my eyes, though. That one was a more of a maybe later thing.

"That was intense." Lucifer commented. "What in the actual shit happened to you?"

"Not certain." I admitted. "I blame you."

"Why me?!"

"Because it's easier and I hate you." Too many words. Too many syllables. It kept hurting to speak. Everything hurt. "Is your tie OK?"

"My tie is fine." Castiel assured me, his voice extremely soft.

"Good."

"Are you alright?" He glanced at something on my head in worry.

"Ask again later. Lots of head pain." I could do two-syllable words, but three? That word "easier"? No, more like harder. Hardest. I could do two syllables spoken, but that was it for now. Castiel didn't say anything else, just kept me close to him. Lucifer, on the other hand…

"So… What's the deal with the Jack the Ripper and Hannibal's love child?" He asked. He sounded like his normal mixture of curious and uncaring. "He seems to really, REALLY have it out for you. What did you do, lock him in another universe too?"

"I wish." I'd thought Ketch was dead, until he bragged about his revival.

"So what's his deal?"

"He thinks I…" How many syllables were in "ruined?" Two? Yeah, two. "I ruined his life."

"That does tend to be your thing."

"Shut up." Castiel shot the words to the other angel sharply, and a little louder than I could handle. I grimaced. "Sorry." Castiel whispered.

"So how'd you destroy the little British cub scout's life?" Lucifer asked. "You not marry him either?" I felt Castiel's wince at that.

"No."

"You kill him?"

"Mary did."

"That bitch." Lucifer muttered. "So what'd you do to destroy him?"

"I didn't die." I summed up. "And I blew up the compound that I think he was going to be in charge of. And I kind of said I would kill him, so I don't think that that helps."

"Really?" Lucifer asked. "That's all?! This guy failed to kill you and you blew up his super-secret base, plus you only _threatened_ to kill this guy? And he's this pissed off at you?" Lucifer let out a huff of air. "Sounds like he's overcompensating for some other shit."

"Tell me that when it's you he's using as a punching bag." I replied. "He gets…" Fuck. I had to use a three-syllable word. I couldn't think of any that would work and were only two syllables. "Creative. But you both saw that when you came in." Castiel's grasp on me tightened just a hair at those words. "For the record, the hair was his idea too."

"I still think you look beautiful." Castiel assured me quietly. "Even more so now without his initials branded into you." Out of curiosity I rose a hand to my face. Sure enough, they were gone. I felt relief for only a moment.

"He's going to be back." I said, lowering my hand. "And he'll be worse. We both know those bullets can kill angels." The fact he'd been so relaxed with wasting one on me showed that he definitely had some to spare.

"I am aware."

"Then next time he comes," Castiel cut me off before I could finish.

"There will be no change in my choice." Castiel stated firmly. "I will not allow that man to lay a hand on you again."

"Oooh, so alpha." Lucifer crowed.

"Cas, can you please punch him for me?"

"Later."

"Ouch!" The volume of Lucifer's voice made me wince again. I curled in to Castiel a little tighter, unable to shake the feeling of worry.

"I'm serious, though." I insisted.

"About physically attacking Lucifer? I'm quite certain you were."

"No, about Ketch." Cas squeezed me tighter again.

"No."

"He'll kill you."

"I don't care."

"I do." I forced my eyes open, wincing at the light for a moment before looking over at the angel. "I just got you back, Cas. I'm not losing you again."

"And I will not lose you either."

"You won't." I promised. "But Ketch will tell Asmodeus, and when evil Colonel Sanders comes back they'll both be worse together."

"Colonel Sanders?" Castiel asked.

"KFC man. Finger-lickin good." Lucifer laughed out loud after saying that. The volume made my head worse. "I'm going to start calling him that now!"

"Please turn it town, like, two notches." I was starting to feel better, but it still wasn't good. Usually after Asmodeus haphazardly put me back together, he tossed me a cracker and a bottle of warm water. Ketch had told him about how I rebounded better after a little R&R, and Asmodeus really wanted me to be able to either open the Rift or find Jack. That was probably the only reason I was still alive.

This time, though, I had nothing to help with the rebound. I'd just have to sleep it off, probably.

"Kylie, I cannot abide what that man does." Castiel stated softly. "None of this is right at all. You being here even is one of the worst things I can imagine happening. I would never, ever ask this upon you."

"I know." I muttered. "Cas, I know. None of this is easy. But the safest and admittedly less-difficult choice is to just…" I shrugged. "Just do it. It's simpler to just do what he says, or at least for me it is." I pursed my lips, uncertain of what else to say to Castiel.

"Kylie…" Castiel shook his head. "No. I can't ask this of you. I can't allow this to happen. I can't… I can't believe that you're choosing this, even!"

"Give me a better choice, Cas." I requested. "Please. Because I'd love a better option that doesn't involve one of us getting shot or killed, or maybe one that gets us both out of here," Lucifer cut me off quickly.

"What am I, chopped liver?!"

"Please stop or I swear to your father I can, and will, break your nose." I wasn't threatening, I was promising. The idea was actually a little relaxing.

"Didn't you ask your macho-man boyfriend to hit me?"

"There is still a definitive possibility of that event occurring." Castiel stated before turning back to me. He looked… like he didn't know what else to do. "Kylie… You know I can't ask this of you. I can't even begin to think about accepting this situation. If I had a choice this would be the last place that you'd be in."

"I know." I agreed. "I know. If I had a choice I wouldn't have either of us here either." Lucifer let out a huff at those words. "But we are here, Cas. It's neither of our faults that we're here," he cut me off.

"But I feel as though it is my fault." He admitted. "If I had just been here…"

"Cas, that's not your fault." I reminded him. "That's not your fault at all. That's his fault." I motioned my head towards Lucifer a little for emphasis. "Don't forget that Cas. It's not your fault that either of us are here. That is his fault and his fault alone. His and Ketch's and Asmodeus' and…" I stopped, uncertain of who I was about to name next. Jack? Myself? I honestly didn't want to find out. I didn't want to blame Jack, it wasn't his fault that I was here, but…

But I'd taken more beatings than I should've in the name of trying to find him. I was actually grateful for the reprieve from all the headaches. I couldn't help but be angry sometimes at Jack, even though it wasn't his fault. I'd just been here for too long.

So maybe it was just my fault. Maybe it was just my own stupid, idiot fault. My fault for a lot of things that I'd been trying to come to terms with. There were a lot of things I could easily blame on me. Doing that now wouldn't get us out, though. I didn't know what would, but I knew what wouldn't.

"At least we're together." Castiel said, offering me a small smile. I nodded.

"Yeah." I agreed. "We are." The words came out bittersweet, but they were honest. I leaned my head on his shoulder, curling into Cas just a little more. "Can we talk about something?"

"What about?"

"Anything but here." I reached over to clasp his hand lightly. He gripped it, running his thumb over the ring on my hand. "I have yours, by the way." I added. "It's on my neck."

"It suits you." He commented, putting his free hand around my shoulders. He pulled me back slightly with him, so that we were both leaning up against the wall. He thought of a few minutes, keeping me close, until he finally spoke. "Did I ever tell you about my brother, Gabriel?"

"I think you did. Something about TV-Land and the brothers?" Castiel laughed a little at that, and launched in to stories about his angelic brother.

It made me feel just a little better, in some sort of way. Just better to think of other things than Ketch coming back, or us not being able to leave.


	25. Believing In Us

"Kylie?" Castiel said my name like a question. He'd just finished telling me about how an angel Dean and Sam had hated used to be the funniest angel in their garrison. I looked up with a smile, feeling better about our situation.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Something has been bothering me." He admitted. "About the spell you used."

"Which one?"

"To close the Rift." I stilled just a little bit at those words.

"What about it?"

"Why did it cause you so much pain?" I looked away, pursing my lips. "Is it… Is it why you can't use magic anymore?" I still didn't quite answer. I wasn't really certain how. "Is it because you had to give up the grace?" I was surprised by this. I hadn't told him about that. I had actively avoided telling him anything about that spell, much less its components.

"How do you know about that?"

"Sam and Dean told me." Of course they did. They couldn't have just told him I was fine.

Well, no point in trying to lie it away. "Yeah." I answered, letting out a long breath. "Yeah, it is. I couldn't ask you to do it, Castiel. But I knew that I could do it. I just didn't know it would affect me like that." He leaned back, pulling me close against him.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"But I'm sorry that it happened." He said. "I'm sorry that you have had to go through so much. I know how much you loved being able to use magic. When you showed me your exercise, with the book and the fire," I remembered that. I remembered doing that. It was my favorite thing to do. I didn't remember how I did it, though. "You looked happy. When you talked about everything you could do with it, you looked so proud and joyous; as though something good had finally happened to you from this life. You looked… Just so happy. I'm sorry that it's gone."

"Don't be." I said. "Besides, I'm pretty certain you would've gotten tired of my not-quite-immortal ass anyways." It was an odd thought, once I said it out loud. If I'd kept my magic… I could be killed, sure, but it was difficult. I could've easily stayed alive as long as Rowena had, if not longer. I would've aged a lot slower, even more so with the angelic grace inside of me. I…

I remembered a thought I had, a long time ago; one that had occurred to me before I had magic. In Castiel's timeline, I was just a short blip. I was a grain of rice in an ocean of life, and would continue to be so now. But with magic… I'd had the opportunity to be another ocean. I could've lived until the world ended, if I was smart. I could've had centuries of life.

I could've lived that life with Castiel.

But that wasn't an option anymore.

I could feel Castiel thinking something similar. The heavy silence said everything I needed to know. I would age normally, now. I would eventually grow old and die, like a normal human, at some point in the future.

"I wouldn't have." Castiel said quietly. I was shaken from my thinking, brought back to being next to him.

"What?"

"I wouldn't have tired of you." Castiel explained, his voice still quiet and soft. "I don't think I could if I wanted to."

"You're just saying that now because I'm human again." The phrase "and I'm gonna die like a human" was unspoken, but still present.

"No, I'm not." He said. "I have had to see what a life without you would be like already. I have had to live within an entire year of believing I had to spend the rest of my life without you, and all I wanted in that year was just to have you back. I never tired of you when you were there, and only missed you like nothing else when you were gone." I looked up at him, feeling a flurry of emotions. "Kylie… I love you. I hated a life without you, and in the future…" he stopped, eyes going glassy for just a moment. He wasn't certain what to say. Whatever he was thinking or seeing in his head was something that bothered him. "When I saw you, before I died, you looked extremely hurt and broken. You looked like you were about to die. That… That terrified me. I thought I was going to lose you all over again, except this time be forced to watch it happen. I feared that I would have no choice but to live in a life without you; that the option of you coming back was about to be ripped from me. The idea that at some point this fear will become an eventuality…" He shook his head. "It is not an idea that I like to entertain, to say the least. It… It's not a future I believe I will ever be able to accept or manage. Thinking you were gone," he took a deep breath. "For me, that was worse than the experience of dying myself."

"Oh." His words, though sweet and honest and pure and so many other positive things I could say about them, felt like a stone in my stomach. I had almost died in that spell. I had been willing to die. I had expected it to be me. I had known that Castiel wouldn't be alright with that choice, but to actually hear him say this all out loud… I felt awful. I was prepared to die, and for a good cause, but Cas…

I always believed Castiel was the strong one, between the two of us. I always thought that he would be OK. I had… I had told Castiel that I would marry him afterwards, fully believing I would die. I had been ready to just go, without telling him what would happen.

"Cas," I watched him closely, and saw him staring straight ahead. His eyes had a far-off look. He seemed lost in thought. I shifted my body upwards just enough to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm still here, alright? I'm not dead yet." I leaned back up against him. He was comfortable, the only comfortable thing in this cell.

"But you almost were." He stated. I stiffened, and Castiel felt it. I was hoping he wouldn't ask bring that up. I was hoping he wouldn't put the pieces together.

But he was smart, and he knew me. Of course Sam and Dean would've told him everything. Of course he would've put the pieces together.

"Yeah." That was the only word I could say. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was talking about how he'd seen me before Lucifer gutted him. Maybe he didn't know.

But no, he knew. He always knew. He knew me too well.

"It wasn't supposed to be Crowley, was it?" He asked softly. I couldn't hide from it now. He knew.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "I'm sorry for not telling you." He let out a sigh of his own, squeezing me a little tighter.

"I don't blame you." He said. "I would've done the same thing. I only wish you had told me."

"If I had, would you have still let me go?"

"No." He admitted ruefully. "But I know you would've had logic to back up your choice."

"I just wanted to end it, and do something to keep you all safe." I shrugged. "Fat lot of use it did, considering that they can open a portal from the other side too."

"You did something brave and amazing." Castiel replied. "Nobody else would have had the bravery to complete that spell with the intent of giving the ultimate sacrifice."

"Sam and Dean have done it tons of times." I pointed out. "You've done it yourself a few times."

"They would not have this time." Castiel stated. "This time, they wanted to live. They wanted everyone to live and succeed. They had their family put together in a way they'd never thought possible. They would've done anything to make sure everyone, including themselves, made it out alive."

"And you?" I asked softly. He just chuckled.

"I like to believe that I'm not foolish enough to break a promise I make you." He answered. "I promised you a life and a family. I promised you a husband. I would not make those promises if I had no intent on going through with them." He let out a sigh after that. "However long it takes to get to that point." He muttered.

"You still believe we'll get out of here?" I asked, looking forwards at the cell door. I could feel him nod against my head.

"I won't let us not." He said the words firmly. "I absolutely will not allow us to stay here forever." It felt good to know that someone still believed we could get out.

"Good." I muttered. "Someone needs to think like that."

"You don't believe me?"

"I believe that you do." I explained. "But… Cas I'm sorry. I've given up a lot of hope. I've given up a lot of faith in good things happening. I think… I think you coming back was the last miracle I'm ever going to get. I think I've run out of luck this time. I wasn't lying either when I agreed to marry you, I would have then and there if I'd made it out alive and you had too. But… I didn't think I'd live, and I couldn't tell you that. You looked so hopeful and brave and it," I took a breath, trying to find the right words. "Your faith gave me strength then to go through with whatever needed to be done. I just think I'm out of faith now. I don't think that there will be anymore death defying, world-saving adventures for me. I think that… that this is it." I shrugged. "I think I've run out of luck at this point, Cas. I'm sorry. I still want to marry you and be a family with you and Jack and Sam and Dean. I wish I could snap my fingers and create this amazing, perfect world for all of us where Lucifer is back in Apocalypse world, Mary is here, and all of us are sitting around in the Bunker watching a stupid new movie." I pursed my lips. "But I can't, and I have to accept that that probably won't happen." I looked back up at him and into his eyes. _I should've died in that apocalypse world, Castiel. I should've died afterwards. Hell, there are so many times where I should've died sooner. But I didn't, I'm alive only to die in a cell after days and weeks and probably months of torture from a man that has a personal vendetta against me and a Prince of Hell that I think just gets bored sometimes. I'm going to die here, Cas._ "I'm sorry I can't say anything better, Cas. I still love you. I still want that whole future you promised. I just don't think that, at this point, I'll actually live to see it happen."

"Then let me fulfill at least one promise to you." Castiel looked around, and I could see his posture change.

"What? What's wrong?" He looked back at me, grimacing a little.

"It's not ideal," he started off, giving our surroundings one more cursory glance. "But it will have to do for now."

"What are you talking about Cas?"

"I'm talking about fulfilling a promise to you." He said. "Right here, and right now. If you think that this is it, then fine. I'll do whatever I can do make it not, but I will not allow myself to not be a man of my word." I didn't get it still. I can't believe I didn't get it, but I didn't.

Not until his next words.

"Marry me, Kylie." He requested. "Right here, right now. Marry me." He looked a little manic as he spoke, but… There was a light in his eyes. Somehow, he was happy.

"You're crazy." I said the words with a smile, though. I couldn't keep that smile off of my face.

"Sometimes crazy can be good." He replied. "Marry me, Kylie. I don't care that it's a cell in Hell. I don't care that it's less than conventional. I want to be married to you. I want to at least have the privilege of saying I was married to you, even if it's only for a short time. Please, Kylie," he looked in to my eyes, and I could still see that manic happiness. "Marry me."

I paused, letting this sink in. Castiel wanted me to marry him. He didn't care that I'd been willing to die. He didn't care that this wasn't perfect. He… he wanted to marry me.

This crazy man loved me and wanted to marry me.

"Yes." I said, nodding. "Yes, I'll marry you." We both laughed a little, embracing each other tightly. We were happy. We were going to marry each other somehow, right now, in this cell.

And in all honesty, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

We said our vows to each other quietly, promising to love each other and to believe in each other for as long as we had. We didn't include the words "till death do us part." We'd both been through that. Even in death, we still loved each other. Instead we said this: "Until the end of time." We could die, but we would never stop loving each other. Time would tick on, and we'd still be in love.

I removed his ring from around my neck, taking it off the necklace and sliding it on his finger. "Do you, Castiel, in all your celestial glory, take me to be your wife?" He smiled, looking down at the ring for a moment before looking back at me.

"I do." He promised. "Do you, Kylie, in all your perfect humanity, take me to be your husband?" I glanced at the ring I'd worn for a while now. It felt right to wear it, and even more right to be doing this.

"I do." I promised.

We kissed, and just for a moment it all fell away. For a moment we weren't in a jail cell, we were wherever we wanted to be. We were free, for just a moment. We were free and doing what we wanted.

It made me believe, for once, that there may be hope after all.


	26. Monsters Among Us

Castiel and I were playing tic-tac-to in the dirt. We developed a fair amount of things to do in the time we had, with a lot of them being dirt games. Tic-tac-to and chess were the top two games. Other times we just kind of talked. Lucifer, surprisingly enough, left us alone for the majority.

Then again, he had no choice. We'd been moved from bars between us to brick walls. That was probably my fault. But in my defense, I promised I'd break his nose. I didn't make idle threats, and his face was pressed up extremely close to my closed, extended hand.

So, we got moved. We didn't hear much from him after that. I didn't particularly mind. Asmodeus came and did whatever he wanted to Lucifer. He left me and Castiel alone.

Hell, even Ketch's visits had gotten more infrequent. And by infrequent, I mean he just stopped showing up. Small mercies, I guess.

Until, of course, Ketch did show up.

"Kylie." His voice caused instant fear to course through me. I skirted back to the corner, with Castiel moving automatically to guard me. Ketch watched us for a moment, not saying a word.

"What do you want?" Castiel asked roughly.

"I need to speak with her." Ketch motioned to me.

"No."

"Cas," I warned quietly. I could still see that gun at Ketch's side. Both of us could be killed if we weren't careful. Now me, I couldn't give a rats ass about. But Cas…

I'd just gotten him back.

I couldn't lose him now.

"No." Castiel repeated. "You're my wife, Kylie. I can't do this."

"Wife?" Ketch sounded surprised by the word.

"Yes. Wife." Castiel said determinedly. Ketch looked from him to me. I nodded firmly. "And I swear, you will not lay a hand on her."

"I just want to talk." Ketch said.

"Bullshit." I argued. I'd heard that talking line for weeks at first. He'd always say it with a smile. Then he'd stab into me with something or other.

Or brand my face.

Or cut my hair.

Or do something off a list of thousands of torture ideas he'd had. Apparently, he'd been thinking about it for a while.

"I mean it." Ketch insisted, unlocking the door. "I just want to talk."

"Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my husband." I decided. It felt good, calling Cas my husband. It felt a little empowering.

"You know what? Fine." He decided, snapping his fingers. Eight demons appeared on either side of him. "We'll do this the hard way." They swarmed into the cage with us. The majority of them grabbed Cas, but two of them hauled me out. The both of us were kicking and screaming, fighting as hard as we could.

I wasn't strong enough to make the fighting worth it, though. Once I was outside the cage doors Ketch grabbed me by the forearm, and the demons disappeared. Ketch locked the door before Castiel could get out.

"We'll be back in a few minutes." Ketch told Cas.

"No!" He screamed. Ketch pulled me away, past Lucifer's cell and towards somewhere different. It wasn't the normal torture room. It…

It looked like one of Crowley's old conference rooms.

Ketch shoved me in a little, and closed the door behind us. I spun around angrily.

"What do you want?" I asked, taking a few steps back.

"To talk." He repeated. He walked around me calmly, and took a seat at one of the chairs. "Sit." He pulled a bottle of water out of his jacket. "Drink. You need it." He tossed it to me. I let it drop to the ground before I picked it up. Out of habit, I checked the cap and felt around the sides. No needle marks. No injection points. The bottle hadn't even been opened yet. It was clean.

I took a seat as far away from Ketch as I could, and started in on the water. He waited until I was finished before he spoke. "Congratulations on the marriage." He commented. I didn't say a word. "Look, I know I'm not your favorite person in the world, but this is important."

"Piss off." I said. "You've been torturing me for I don't even know how long. You tried to kill me and the only family I have left." I glared at him. "You stuck me in these cells. You killed my best friend."

"Thomason was a necessary sacrifice."

"Oh bull-freaking-shit." I argued. "You killed him for caring about me. He was going to tell me the truth and you shut him up. Permanently." I rolled my eyes, scoffing a little. "Your ass got burned just like mine did by the Men of Letters, and you're still trying to defend them."

"What I did was just."

"What you've done is inhumane."

"It was necessary!"

"You're still towing the company line!" I retorted. "The British Men of Letters is a bigoted, self-righteous organization and you know it."

"And you worked for them too."

"I thought you were something different at first." I said calmly. "And I was wrong."

"You can't tell me that it was all bad." Ketch replied. I leaned forwards a little bit, feeling pure rage bubbling up inside of me.

"You killed my friends." My voice felt like ice as I spoke. "You killed my family. You came in promising peace and instead tried to wipe us out. So yeah," I leaned back. "I think I can safely call that bad. I think I can say that you're a cruel man, and that my only wish was that I could be there when you died, if only to draw it out a little longer." I wanted to hold out a hand in that moment and just… just clench my fist with magic; clench my fist and close his goddamn throat. I wanted to kill him. Right here, right now.

And I knew Ketch could see it in my eyes. The only reason I wasn't was because I couldn't.

"We killed monsters." Ketch said calmly. "We killed vampires and witches and other creatures that would've killed humans."

"No. We didn't kill monsters." I said. "You became one."

"I am not a monster." He argued firmly.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me, what do you call everything you've done in your life?"

"Stop it." Ketch ordered.

"Do you know who alters peoples minds?" I asked. "Witches." I knew. I'd done it.

"Stop it." Ketch said again.

"Do you know what hunts and kills people different from them? Vampires and werewolves." I remembered what we'd done, hunting down vampires without pause. We just went after everyone we saw.

"I said stop it." Ketch sounded a little more frantic as he spoke. Something was changing in his eyes.

"Do you know what parades around as someone they're not? Shifters. Do you know what tortures people?" I smiled, and felt the cruelty from my words on my own face. This one I remembered personally. This one I would never forget. "Demons." For a second, I saw something different flash across his face. His perfect composure, his absolute sureness that he was in the right… it was faltering. He was looking at himself and wasn't quite able to see it as right anymore. "So tell me, Alex," I don't know why I used his first name. It was… It was more normal. Ketch sounded like catch, like someone who caught you. Ketch almost sounded like a monster's name. But Alex… Alex was a more human-sounding name, yet there were humans called Alex that had the bad luck of being turned.

I remembered how determined I was to change my name when I became a witch. I wasn't human anymore, I didn't deserve a human name. That was what I had thought. For a long time I'd just thought of myself as another monster, another thing to eventually kill. I hadn't wanted to put my name with that of a monster's identity.

From the way I said Ketch's first name, I could see the same rang true for him.

"What makes you so different from the monsters your supposed to hunt?" I asked him. "What makes you so different from Asmodeus right now?"

Ketch got up jerkily, anger coursing behind his eyes. "I can see that this meeting was pointless." He stated. "You may not be a witch anymore, but you are still a monster in your own right and I will make sure that one day," he didn't sound as firm when he spoke. His voice sounded just a bit shakier. "I will rid the world of you."

"It takes a monster to recognize another monster." I replied calmly. I'd already come to terms a long time ago with who I was. I knew that it was my actions that made me a monster, not just what I could do.

I could see that same idea starting to take root in Ketch's mind.

He moved across the room quickly, grabbing me roughly by the forearm. As a habit I fought back, trying to get him off of me. My efforts were met with a quick twist and a broken wrist. I cried out in pain, flinching away to grasp the area as he grabbed me again.

"You know you're going to hell, right?" I asked him, hissing the words through the pain. "You're a monster, Ketch, and you're going to hell for it."

He didn't say another word as he pulled me out of the room. He didn't say another word as he jerked me around back to the cell I shared with Castiel. He didn't say a word as he threw me back in there with him and locked the door behind me.

He stalked off in a different direction, leaving me with Castiel. "Are you alright?" He asked. I nodded.

"Just a sprained wrist." I lied. It was a bad lie, and Cas knew it. We both just also knew that the healing would be even more painful.

His tie muffled my screaming, but not as effectively as before. The poor fabric had been used just a little too much.

When I was back to consciousness, Castiel had me in his arms. "Your head keeps doing that." He muttered quietly.

"Doing what?"

"Whenever I heal you, your head becomes injured." He said, guiding my healed hand up to a specific spot. I could feel blood. Not a lot, but some. "I don't know why."

"Me neither." I answered, pulling my hand away. I leaned a little more into Castiel, looking over at one of the brick walls.

"What did he want?"

"I don't know." I admitted honestly. "I think… I think he was trying to convince himself he was a good guy."

"Are you alright now?" He asked. I nodded, this time telling the truth. "We need to get out of here." He said.

"I know." I agreed. "I want out too." I did. Even though I didn't believe we could escape, I still wished we could. "At least we have each other, right?" I looked up at him for that.

In response, Castiel leaned down and kissed me lightly. "Until the end of time." He promised.


	27. Gold

Ketch didn't come by after our meeting. Asmodeus still came by, though. Not as frequently, but he still came nonetheless. He came, and he tortured me in front of Castiel. This was his new way of trying to force information about Jack out of either of us. Cas would be forced to watch whatever torture Asmodeus chose, and then when neither of us said a word that was useful we'd get thrown back in the cell together. ("After all, I must honor that sacred bond of a husband and a wife. In suffering and in pain, isn't that how it goes?")

Being healed by Cas made me scream out in pain. Leaving it alone just left me in whatever state Asmodeus had left me in; one that was usually excruciatingly painful in its own right. The Prince had stopped coming bothering to put me back together again. "You've got the angel now, after all. Why have me play the king's horses and men?" He'd cast a sharp glance at Lucifer after those words. "I'm the king now."

Lucifer hadn't been doing so good himself. Asmodeus… This was personal to him. He took it out on Lucifer with as much – if not more – of a grudge than Ketch had exacted on me. If Asmodeus wasn't trying to get information out of me and Castiel, he was either leaving us alone or taking out his frustrations on Lucifer.

I hated to say it, but sometimes I almost felt sympathy for the Devil. He just looked beaten down. No anger. No fire. No determination. Something inside of him looked like it had finally just died and given up.

Granted, all of us were feeling that way. There wasn't a good way out. All there was in front of us was an eternity of torture sessions. Even if Asmodeus ever got his hands on Jack, that wouldn't change our predicaments. Ketch enjoyed his work too much. Asmodeus enjoyed his payback just the same.

There was no out. No death option, because they wouldn't let us die. Castiel wouldn't do it either, in all honesty. But I think he still believed there could be a way out. At the very minimum, he refused to believe that this was the end for me or him.

He'd come back from the dead, and this was what he came back to. I didn't know if his refusal of the inevitable was because of actual faith, or if he just simply couldn't and wouldn't accept the fact that this was going to be what he came back for. Either way, it was his determination. Not mine. Not Lucifer's.

We were damned to exist forever in this torture version of limbo.

I was actually thankful some days that the rest of my family was dead. Less leverage for them to use against me. All they had was Cas, and neither Asmodeus nor Ketch were particularly interested in him. Asmodeus was sometimes, but not often.

Until one day Asmodeus came knocking on our cell door. "Castiel. Kylie. I require your presences." He said, his voice as falsely full of southern charm as ever. This was new, though. Asmodeus had never taken the both of us together. That was Ketch's favorite thing. Asmodeus usually just came for one out of the three of us.

We got up slowly, with Castiel keeping me just a little behind him as we walked. Asmodeus opened the door calmly. "Come on, now. We have things to discuss."

Castiel kept me close as we followed Asmodeus. I recognized the route pretty quickly. This was where we'd go when he tried bribing me or being "kind" to me in the beginning. And sure enough, after maybe a few minutes of walking we arrived at Crowley's old throne room. The same small table that was supposed to be behind a pillar was moved more towards the center, and this time there were three chairs instead of the normal two that were supposed to be there. Some food was on the table (waters and cheap to-go burgers with fries, for the record), but this time there was something both different and familiar.

The chessboard. It looked like the same one from the cabin. I felt my jaw clench at that thought. This was not Asmodeus' place. He didn't belong here. The demon that did was dead though, and Lucifer was chained. I didn't care that Asmodeus was a Prince of Hell. To me, he didn't deserve this room. He hadn't earned it.

"Please, sit." Asmodeus encouraged. "I'd like to talk over a game of chess. I know the lady here is quite fond of it." I bit back a spiteful response. It wouldn't do me any good, much less Castiel. So we sat, Castiel still being the type of gentleman that pulled the chair out for me. "Congratulations on the marriage, by the way." Asmodeus motioned to our rings as he spoke. "I'm glad the two of you were able to find something… worthwhile." I didn't like the sound of that word, and neither did Cas. I reached for his hand on instinct. He gripped mine back reassuringly. "Come, let's play. Which do you prefer Kylie, white or black?"

"Black." I said automatically. Old habits from playing with Crowley. Watching their moves first was easier sometimes. Asmodeus complied, rotating the board by hand so that the black pieces faced me. Out of curiosity I picked up the knights to inspect them. One of them was extremely scuffed and scraped.

That bastard had taken the goddamn chessboard from the cabin.

"Would you like to eat first, or play?" Asmodeus asked. I glanced over at the food. Burgers and fries were better than the spoiled crap I'd been eating, and my stomach acknowledged that with a growl.

"You should eat." Castiel whispered quietly. "You need your strength."

"I'm fine." My stomach growled again in protest.

"You're malnourished." Castiel stated plainly. "Eat something."

"It's not poisoned, I promise." Asmodeus said almost cheerily. I glared at him in response, reaching for a burger and some fries. Castiel grabbed a few bottles of water as well. He handed me one as I ate.

I hated to say it, but the food was good. This was probably the best burger I'd had in a long time.

Then again, my level for comparison was pretty low. This was better than rotten apples and soggy bread, at the very least.

Asmodeus sat quietly as I almost inhaled the food in front of me. Castiel was right, I was malnourished; but I hadn't realized how starving I truly was until I was actually able to eat. I finished the meal in a matter of minutes, going through three bottles of water in the process.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked when I was done. I nodded, and he handed me a fourth bottle. I didn't open this one automatically though. This time, I gave my body a moment to rest. I was probably going to regret all that food later.

"Thanks." I leaned into him a little, squeezing his hand lightly. For just a second, I had forgotten where we were.

Until Asmodeus spoke up again.

"I'm glad that you've slaked your hunger." He commented. His smile was just as fake as normal. "Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

"What do you want?" Castiel asked. I could see a slight shift in his body; the adjustment in his shoulders was just enough to put them in front of my own.

"I'm here to talk business with your wife." Asmodeus stated plainly, glaring at the angel. "And, quite possibly to offer you both your freedom." Castiel and I exchanged looks at that. Freedom was something I didn't believe was available, but I could see a small glimmer in Castiel's eyes.

"And I'm guessing all you want in return is where Jack is at, right?" I asked sarcastically, looking back as Asmodeus. "You still want me to work a spell." He shrugged.

"Why don't we talk over that game?" He motioned to the chess board. I glanced over at Castiel once. He looked… unsure. Determined, but unsure.

"Your move first then." I said.

"Gladly." He waved his hand, and one of his pawns moved a single, lazy space forwards. I grimaced. Even something as small as that sent pain straight to my head. "Do you know how long you've been here, Kylie?" He asked.

"No clue." I mimicked his movement with my own piece. The only difference was that I actually picked mine up.

"Five months." He answered. He glanced at the board for a moment, and this time physically moved a knight up and over. I copied him again, but I couldn't keep a smile off my face. I'd held out for five months so far. That wasn't bad for a human. For five months, I'd given them nothing on Jack. The only thing they got was that Rowena was dead.

I was actually a little proud of myself.

"What, do you do five-month anniversaries?" I asked. I couldn't help it. I'd been around Dean and Sam too much. "If that's the case then thanks. I'll see you again in another five."

"You know how to close those portals." He said. This time it was my turn to shrug. I had done it, emphasis on had. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't do anything anymore.

He moved his other knight. I switched it up, moving a different pawn two spaces forwards to free up my bishop.

"Knew." I corrected. That was all.

"I think you still know." He said. "In fact, based off of the information from Lucifer, I think you can open one too."

"Really? What did Lucifer say?" I'd heard the shit about Michael. I'd heard the shit about the angel invasion. I'd heard how he left Mary there. I even heard the spiel on how Kevin opened up the door.

"He said you created the spell to close it." Asmodeus replied. "And based off of what I've heard about you from Mr. Ketch, I think it's true."

"It's not." I lied instantly. "It was a spell from the Book of the Damned."

"Really?" Asmodeus flicked a hand at the board again, and I felt two bursts of pain: one in my head and one in my throat. I clutched at both areas, scratching at them. I couldn't breath. I couldn't think straight with this pain. Castiel put a hand on me, but Ketch squeezed his hand in to a light fist. "Touch her and she's dead." He explained calmly.

"You're killing her now!" Castiel sounded almost panicked as he spoke. Asmodeus looked at the angel curiously, and relaxed his hand. Instantly the pains disappeared.

"I don't like being lied to." Asmodeus stated, still inspecting Castiel curiously. "And in all honesty, when Ketch told me you were in love with this human I thought it was just for show. I thought it was all a big bluff. After all, I've met my father." He raised an eyebrow. "Angels don't fall in love with humans. Except you, apparently." He leaned forwards a little, cocking his head to the side. "You're actually in love with this woman."

"Leave her be." Castiel ordered. "You said you had an offer for our freedom. What was it?"

"I want to know how she made that spell to close the Rift." Asmodeus said plainly. "And then I want her to make a new spell for me."

"I can't do magic." I reminded him.

"I don't want you to do any magic at all." Asmodeus promised. "I just want you to write it all out for someone else to do it." Something didn't feel right about this. It didn't feel right at all.

"What would this spell do, exactly?"

"It would allow a demon to open a hellgate." Castiel froze at that. I did too. The majority of hellgates were specifically designed so that demons couldn't open or close them. "Any hellgate." He had Jack opening up one gate… The one in Jasper…

"Which one?" I asked cautiously. "Those gates can be different, depending on what's behind them."

"Go as powerful as you can." Asmodeus encouraged. He glanced at the chessboard. We'd barely even started. He pushed it aside, leaning in just a little bit. "If you can do that, just make the spell, then you both will have your freedom."

I looked over at Castiel. He looked conflicted, and honestly I felt it too. On one hand, this could be it. This could be our chance out. This could be our chance for freedom. Both of wanted that, for ourselves and for each other.

But on the other hand I remembered what Asmodeus made Jack do. I remembered those things that had just started to crawl out. I remembered why demons couldn't normally open those gates, and why they shouldn't be able to.

And in all honesty, I couldn't even trick him. I couldn't do any magic. Even if I wanted to build this spell, I wouldn't be able to.

I felt a look of understanding pass between myself and Castiel. Even if I could build it, I wouldn't. Castiel wouldn't either.

"Do we have a deal?" Asmodeus asked us. I turned back to look at him, smiling.

"No." I said determinedly. "No, we don't. So you can take your food and your fake southern hospitality and shove it right up your yellow-eyed ass." I felt that Dean and Sam would've been proud of those words. I knew I was.

Asmodeus just sighed. "I was afraid it would come to this." He looked down and behind him a little. "Mr. Ketch?"

Ketch appeared from the shadows, pistol outstretched. Castiel shifted automatically in response, his body blocking mine just enough from Ketch. Asmodeus shook his head, and as if from nowhere four demons appeared. They all gripped Castiel, dragging him away from me and towards the other end of the room. I tried to fight them off, but Asmodeus raised a hand at me. "Stay." He ordered. I felt like I was being crushed, but my head had explosions going off inside of it.

"What are you doing to her?!" Castiel shouted. He thrashed and fought through the demons, but it didn't work. "What are you doing? Let her go!"

"She has one last chance to prove herself useful." Asmodeus decided. "Because, quite honestly, I've had it with her. Sure, she serves to keep you in line, but so does the Nephilim." He glanced over at Castiel. "So do the Winchesters. There are other bargaining chips I can use to keep you as I want you." He looked back at me. "Besides, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don't love her after all." I glanced over at Castiel, fighting to shake my head. I was being used, I could feel it. Asmodeus was using me to make Castiel do what he wanted.

Castiel was looking at me, but I knew what he was seeing. He was seeing me dead. He was seeing the end in front of his eyes again, for good. He was seeing his worst nightmare.

I knew because I knew the look. It was the same look I wore when I watched Lucifer stab him in the back.

"Cas," I tried to choke out his name, tried to choke out the word no, but it just came out a strangled mess of sound. That look in his eyes didn't chance though.

"Let her go." Castiel ordered.

"Give me a good reason why." Asmodeus challenged. I felt a ringing noise after that, and saw Castiel's eyes begin to light up.

"Asmodeus," Ketch warned, his gun wavering between myself and the angel. I wished I could laugh. I couldn't do anything, but they still saw me as a threat. Old habits die hard, I guess.

Instead, I felt infinitely worse. Something inside my head was going to blow, I could feel it.

"He's bluffing." Asmodeus stated, glancing back at me. I couldn't move, or else I'd be on the floor in pain. "He'll kill her if he does anything." Castiel's eyes were still glowing. He looked over at me again. Every time he'd healed me, I'd blacked out in pain. There were probably other things that he wasn't telling me during those ordeals. But we both knew he was only using a little bit of his power to fix me up. If he started firing off angelic shots…

I probably would die.

Castiel's eyes dimmed, and I watched him slump a little. He knew we were trapped. He knew we were cornered.

But the pain didn't go away.

If anything, it got worse.

Asmodeus' grasp on me broke, and I raised my hands to my temples. I felt my head splitting. Something was wrong, and it wasn't what Asmodeus was doing anymore. Castiel could see it too. "What's wrong, Kylie?" He asked, trying to take a step towards me. The instant he moved, however, there was a single gunshot. I spun around before falling to the ground, pain radiating from my shoulder. "Can't you see something is wrong?!" Castiel exclaimed. I reached back up to grip my head, exacerbating the pain in my shoulder. Something was very wrong. Something was extremely wrong. It felt like someone was trying to tear my skull open.

I closed my eyes, and heard another girl's voice in the back of my mind. "It's so beautiful." She sounded peaceful. She sounded happy. I felt like I should be screaming.

"Focus." Jack's voice. Jack? Where was he? I knew he wasn't in the room with me. I could see flashes of gold and… other things. But only flashes. Nothing concrete. It was dark blues and greys. It was bright shimmering gold. It was something wrong. It wasn't supposed to be happening.

"No." I muttered, curling up in to a small ball. I could feel what it was, even if I couldn't find the words.

"Let me through!" I heard Castiel order the words, but at the same time I heard another voice.

"Hurry up!" Gruff. Insistent. Dean? Where was Dean? Where was Sam? Where was Jack?

I felt a slap down on the ground, reverberating around me. They were consistent. Rhythmic. Purposeful. Blue-white light, one I could feel but not see. Gold again, brighter and brighter and insistent. It was forcing its way into the world. It was tearing me apart.

"Stop!" I screamed. "Stop! DON'T!"

"What's going on?" Asmodeus asked. "Angel, what's happening?"

"Kylie?!" Castiel asked. "Kylie, what's happening? Talk to me!"

"STOP!" I screeched. My body curled tighter and tighter inwards, as my brain continued to try and explode. "STOP IT! DON'T!"

"Don't what?" Ketch asked. "Stop shooting you? Tell us what is happening or I will shoot you again." No, that wasn't it. They needed to stop. They shouldn't do this. This was wrong. This was WRONG.

"Let me go!" Castiel again.

"There!" Jack's voice. Grey tones. Nothing clear, but… I could feel the color. I could feel the air that surrounded the color. Not exactly oppressive, but broken and torn. The blue felt more oppressive, but I couldn't feel it as strongly. I just felt the broken and torn and hungry greys. I could feel it solidifying more and more in my mind, starting to shimmer around the edges with gold.

"Not again." I pleaded. "NOT AGAIN JACK STOP!" As I spoke I felt the solidification start to fizzle. It shifted with the blue, more oppressive. There was another pound on the ground. Another. Another. Grey. Blue. Black? Gold. Too many colors. Too much power. Too much. Too much. Stop. STOP JACK STOP PLEASE NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN!

"Where is he, Kylie?" Asmodeus' voice right next to me. I felt a tight grip on my injured shoulder, pulling me back to reality for a moment. Asmodeus' thumb buried itself in my bullet wound. "Where is the Nephilim?!"

Then I… I don't know. Time stopped. Reality paused. I… I stopped. I felt like shimmering, fluid gold. But not fluid like water. Fluid like… like air rippling through my fingers, through my entire being. I was golden, shimmering, fluid air.

I opened my eyes, turning to look straight at Asmodeus. I couldn't see him though. All I saw was golden greys and blues in my eyes, but I knew I was looking in the right direction.

Direction. I would have to choose. There were four paths before me. I felt that information as clearly as I could see the golden air. I could choose grey. I could choose blue. I could choose black. I could choose this. But no matter what, I had to make a choice. I had to make it alone. I would have to do something to get this out of me.

 _"The Rifts have been re-opened."_ I said, causing Asmodeus' hand to jerk away from my shoulder. The words came out calmly, monotonously. I wasn't certain where they came from. I wasn't saying them, but I was. The words came from somewhere inside that I hadn't felt in a while. They reverberated with the beat of the Earth that I knew was somewhere else, where the blue-white met the ground of the black.

The reverberation turned in to a soundwave, getting higher and higher and higher. A scream. A female scream. It was coming from the lights, but I could feel it all around me. It was scared. It was pained. It was desperate.

The other girl was screaming, but so was I. I was screaming right alongside her, my own pain and fear and desperation joining her as she started to pull apart the gold. She screamed once, the ground reverberated, and I felt one choice fly by me. The blue, rimmed more strongly with gold. I didn't want it anyways. It was too oppressive and dark. Another scream, another pound on the ground, and another door. I was screaming with it, but I made my choice. The grey. I had to go to the grey. I could feel purpose behind it. I could feel a tie.

I screamed once more, felt that last quake in the earth, and saw the last choice fly by. It was the black, but it was shifting to greens and browns mixed in. It wasn't what I needed, though. I needed the grey. I could feel it pulling me as well, still hungry. It remembered me.

Something inside of me exploded in to shards of gold and grey, careening me through space and time like a freight train. I wanted Castiel to come with me but he wasn't here, I couldn't reach him. I don't even think I could've pulled him through with me if he was touching me.

And then I was too far gone. I was too far in to the Rift, but I couldn't leave it open behind me. I absolutely could not allow one to stay open behind me.

I reached back as I flew forwards, gripping the edges tightly with my hands (or was it my brain? How could I grip the edges? I couldn't even see them, but I knew they were there). Gripping it felt like I was burning, but I kept going. I had to do something. I knew I could do something.

I pulled those edges together as I kept flying forwards, tying them and bringing them with me to the grey place. It hurt to do it. It hurt my brain more and more and more than the opening had.

But I did it. I pulled it forwards with me until I couldn't anymore, and did the only thing I could think of; I pulled the edges until they met, and closed the door behind me. Asmodeus could scour the Earth looking for it, but he would never find it because I'd already closed it.

I couldn't stop them from opening, but I could close them. I… I…

I was gone.


	28. UPDATE

**Hey all, WriKai here!**

 **Sorry it took me a bit to put up the new segment, been juggling a few different ideas back and forth (and also trying to get more written down for Believing in the Bizarro, which I have sadly neglected). I'm splitting this season in half since it's so good and so packed, so the new segment will be All's Fair In Love and Interdimensional War.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone that's been submitting reviews and sending me supportive messages! Special shout-outs real quick to anonymous commenter Danillyria (who I hope sees this later!) and Pavs.**

 **Danillyria:**

 **¡Gracias por tu comentario! Me alegra que disfrutes de la serie y espero que sigas disfrutando de ella en la parte nueva.**

 **Pavs:**

 **Thank you so much for the frequent reviews! It always makes me smile to see I've got a new one up from you!**


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